


willing heart.

by 1roomdisco



Category: Day6 (Band), NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Dates, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Rating May Change, Strangers to Lovers, basically wonpil looking for a fake boyf bc his noona been asking about one LOL, this chapter is exhausting WOW pls comment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-12-14 20:29:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11790870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1roomdisco/pseuds/1roomdisco
Summary: it goes like this:wonpil lied to his noona about already, finally, meeting a good boy to date. he’s only a sophomore, and he hasn’t really had time to think about boys in general. it's been a little bit over one year since he came out to his family. that one classmate in twelfth grade was his first love; before him, wonpil got off on girl groups members with glamorous bodies and goddess-like actresses, never on tall and scrawny boys who couldn’t differentiate the usage ofyourversusyou’rein english class.based on an anon request.





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taekwoons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taekwoons/gifts).



> EDIT (27/8):
> 
> AMAZING AESTHETICS BY [@jahehyung/ttamarrindo.](https://jahehyung.tumblr.com/post/164673820693/sungpil-fake-boyfriendau-based-on)  
>   
>   
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“oh, your cute sister is visiting?”

wonpil huffs. it’s so typical of jaehyung to dismiss his ordeal with such nonchalant, unrelated comment. the older man is too _americanized_ , if that’s even a word at all, so unlike brian who’s not _canadianized_ except for the fact that he keeps his english name even after he’s back home—and wonpil only picks brian mostly because brian entertains wonpil acting cute and clingy to everyone, so unlike jaehyung. but then again wonpil can’t really blame him; jaehyung himself still struggles with hangul yet he chose to pursue his degree in motherland korea. that’s really brave and admirable, not something wonpil could have done.

besides, it’s true. his noona is cute. she’s the best.

if only she would leave wonpil’s nonexistent love life alone, that is.

“jae-hyung, you’re not listening to me…” wonpil whines, puffing his cheeks and stirring the already diluted green tea frappe. he’s on a lunch break, with dowoon replacing him behind the cashier. thursdays are wonpil’s favorite day, the crowd is not too demanding and his class, assessment method, won’t start until three o’clock. jaehyung often comes to have a cup of iced americano, a slice of carrot cake, and new book in hand, sitting at the hidden corner where the speaker playing indie pop is the quietest.

wonpil works part-time at the coffee club; a popular two-story café slash mini book store owned by a middle-aged bachelor who lets his employees to call him ‘boss-hyung’, and is notorious for having the eyes to hire skillful good-looking guys and girls to work at his establishments. wonpil doesn’t even drink anything but sweet frappes. he knows close to zero how to operate the espresso machine, despite watching dowoon making cups after cups for the past couple of months. but boss-hyung said wonpil has this _quality_ that just draws people in—when he interviewed wonpil and found out that he’s studying education with minor in music theory—and he assigned wonpil to work as the cashier every monday, thursday, and friday, believing that wonpil and his endearing way of speaking would make female customers swoon and thus, more extra purchase from them to go along with any decaf stuffs or caramel macchiato, probably a tuna puff or a chocolate muffin or the new motivational book on how to pursue your dream?

“hyuuuuung, what should i do?”

“i dunno, ask brian to pose as your boytoy for however long she’s here?”

wonpil makes a sound from the back of his throat that he knows gets jaehyung _killed_ every time, no matter how vocal jaehyung is to deny it. it’s his very own superman’s kryptonite, because jaehyung immediately softens his tone and turns his full attention for wonpil, abandoning his small, battered notebook where he stores all of his upcoming vlog ideas.

“well, in my professional opinion,” jaehyung starts, “you shouldn’t have lied to her in the first place. i mean, i have an older sister too. _sisters know_ , bro. they can sense our bullshits. i dunno how, but they just do.”

wonpil pouts. “she’s familiar with you and brian-hyung, so you guys are out of options,” he says, matter-of-factly, because jaehyung and brian are frequent faces that grace wonpil’s instagram stories or selca posts.

“that kid then.” jaehyung nods towards dowoon. wonpil doesn’t understand why jaehyung seems to make it a habit to call dowoon’s name anything but ‘dowoon’. jaehyung argues that’s only because he _forgets,_ every single time he’s here. wonpil thinks that’s because jaehyung wants to get close to dowoon in his very own tsundere way, but wonpil never verbalizes his theory because he still wants a freedom to act cute to his americanized friend.

who’s got the worst idea ever.

“no way! i can’t do that to dowoonnie!” wonpil protests, hugging his arms at the mere thought of using the younger man to fool his noona.

“dude, you’re always so lovey-dovey with him,” jaehyung clicks his tongue but there’s no bite in it. “might as well? it will look natural even for hawk-like older sisters.”

wonpil mimics what jaehyung just did and turns his head to look at dowoon, a freshman who studies computer science, the newest employee at the coffee club whose ears turn red anytime he takes giggly girls’ orders. wonpil orbits to him like a bee to sunflowers. he has always wanted a younger brother to dote on to and dowoon accepting his tendency to be clingy is a plus point. jaehyung, once again, is right. dowoon would do, but wonpil is not too sure.

 

* * *

 

aside from jaehyung, who’s only slightly wise because he’s older than everyone in the group, wonpil has jinyoung to talk to. his roommate doesn’t sugarcoat his opinions, always preparing a breakfast for wonpil before they both go to their morning classes, and is the best wingman slash watchman at parties—since wonpil tends to be overly sweet on boys who happen to slide themselves next to him. not easy, just sweeter than he is sober, and that means wonpil must be more careful at intoxicated boys who misunderstood his cross-eyed, wide smile. jinyoung is like a mother, if anything, because he’s got four other young adults he jokingly (not really) calls ‘my sons’, and they can be a true, living mess if it’s not for him constantly nagging them to act responsibly.

so, jinyoung.

the one best friend you get during university. the one who complements wonpil’s naturally cute behavior with his own gentle personality and the one who just clicked right when he asked, after their first month living together in the campus’ cramped dorm, if he’s into boys because _i can see it, wonpil-ah, me too._

that was the first time wonpil ever confessed to someone about it. he had an angsty period during his last year of high school, thinking that it would pass, that it was just a phase because surely his friends had thought about kissing boys before, no? but apparently none of wonpil’s school friends did, and he had hated himself back then for wanting to hold hands with a friend who sat next to him for the past three years, to feel that friend’s long fingers caressing his hair like he would his own during gym class to get rid of his black fringe, to taste that friend’s thin lips that would whisper at wonpil to tell him the answer for question number five, _please, i_ _’_ _ll buy you banana milk for lunch i swear, hehehe_ —and to get whatever it was in his chest that was overwhelming him to be reciprocated by that friend, who didn’t, of course, because wonpil never said anything.

jinyoung knew, and from then on, liking boys is okay.

“we can ask jaebum-hyung,” jinyoung says in between mouthful of kimchi fried rice he cooked for their dinner. “he’ll go along with it.”

it’s not like wonpil is opposed to the idea of borrowing jinyoung’s not-boyfriend jaebum to pretend to be _his_ boyfriend, oh no. jaebum is too _hot_. he’s totally out of wonpil’s league his noona would know the second wonpil open his mouth to introduce them in his imaginary scenario. that, and also, as much as wonpil always shyly fanboying over jinyoung’s not-boyfriend jaebum every time they’re hanging out together, he just can’t do _that_ to jinyoung. god knows how jealous jinyoung can be no matter how vocal he is to deny it. he’s the same with jaehyung. virgo boys are the perfect epitome of tsundere.

anyway.

“aw,” wonpil whines, shaking his head. “that’d be nice, but i’ll pass. jaebum-hyung is too impossible even as a fake boyfriend. he’s like, too hot!”

jinyoung scoffs, but there’s a hint of knowing smile from the corners of his lips. of course he’s proud that wonpil, as his best friend, acknowledges The Fact™.

“he’s a dork,” he says, and then he turns serious once again. “i’ll think of someone to help you. when will yeeun-noona come to visit?”

“in two weeks, she just wants to see the neighborhood and meet my ‘boyfriend’.” wonpil makes a quoting motion with both hands. “ugh, why did i lie to her?!”

“right, why did you?” jinyoung coos, reaching out across the communal dining table to pinch wonpil’s chin. they’re currently alone at the dorm’s dining room. “just tell her the truth.”

“if i tell her the truth, she would tease me for the rest of the year!” wonpil pouts and scrunches his nose at the possibility. it won’t be long until christmas and new year’s break. appa and umma will join in making fun of wonpil lying in the first place about him getting cozy with a handsome university guy!

jinyoung laughs, the cat’s whiskers on the apple of his cheeks are visible as he covers his mouth with a palm.

“maybe she’s testing you? who knows she might already have a good boyfriend candidate for her beloved dongsaeng?” jinyoung consoles him with a logical explanation. “she’s just worried about you.”

“yeah, she might,” wonpil agrees. his noona only has the best intention for him. “but still.”

“but still.”

“just tell me if you have someone. tell them i will pay them back with lunch and dinner.”

“sure thing, wonpillie.”

 

* * *

 

it goes like this:

wonpil lied to his noona about already, finally, meeting a good boy to date. he’s only a sophomore, and he hasn’t really had time to think about boys in general. it's been a little bit over one year since he came out to his family. that one classmate in twelfth grade was his first love; before him, wonpil got off on girl groups members with glamorous bodies and goddess-like actresses, never on tall and scrawny boys who couldn’t differentiate the usage of _your_ versus _you_ _’_ _re_ in english class.

if he didn’t have jinyoung as roommate, he’s pretty sure he’d still be hidden in the closet by now, going to goukon meetups with fellow education major friends, drinking and enjoying dinner with cute girls from ewha university. wonpil is _cute_ , years of being the youngest in the family with an awesome noona shaped him up like that. everyone is aware of his cuteness, and hyung from the coffee club is right; women swoon at the way he talks when he takes their orders, because he sounds like a sonsaengnim teaching little kids in a classroom, his soft voice has a certain melodious lilt to it—his _face_ , and his crisp fashion sense help, too. wonpil could have any girl he wants, but he doesn’t want to.

not that he didn’t try, oh no.

before jinyoung asked the question, to avoid suspicion because one simply can’t be a student in seoul national university—a good-looking one at that—yet still single, he tried dating a tomboy girl from his human development 101 class. she was pretty, with fox features on her small face, her straight long hair dyed pastel red and she was the one who approached wonpil and told him to take her out on a date. wonpil had liked her, somehow, because she knew how baseball works and read action manhwa and she smelled nice. they didn’t do anything, holding hands with her always made wonpil feeling nauseated and her innocent kisses were always so suffocating.

they lasted for about three months.

and then wonpil had a slip of staring a second too long at the university’s star basketball player with arms made of bulging muscles and jawline sharper than his own. he was drunk, the pool party sucked because neither jaehyung nor brian were there, and jinyoung was already sucking faces with someone who wasn’t jaebum, but definitely a male, and the basketball player had raised his eyebrows at wonpil from where he stood shirtless by the pool. wonpil wasn’t—isn’t—brave. he flashed a quick smile, failed to see the smile in return, and flew from the scene as soon as he finished the cheap beer in his red cup.

enter jinyoung helping him figuring things out, and the rest is history.

his family couldn’t be more supportive. umma said she just had the question recently brought to light to his appa, who joked that he himself was pretty popular with younger boys back in the days. his noona, as it turned out, was suspicious ever since he entered high school because wonpil never seemed to take her friends teasing him to be their boyfriend into consideration, like, at all, _wonpillie, do you remember jihye? she was basically the school_ _’_ _s fairy and you didn_ _’_ _t blink when she asked you to go to prom with her!_

jaehyung and brian whom he met at the campus library simply don’t care, their western background is making them _that_ cool. wonpil hasn’t said a word to dowoon, because he doesn’t want to freak him out or something, even though he’s pretty sure the younger boy will accept him no matter what.

anyway, so wonpil lied.

it happened just like that. his noona called, they bickered over wonpil’s latest selca post on instagram with cheesy caption that led her to believing he’s got a boyfriend or else he wouldn’t write 세상에 모든 사람을 만나도

내게 내줄 시간은 없는 거니 ?

너무해 넌 왜 그렇게

안달 나게 해 ?* and wonpil wanted nothing but peace from her so he said yes, and she asked to meet his boyfriend when she visits seoul.

it’s been a week and jinyoung doesn’t have anyone to pretend to be wonpil’s boyfriend. neither do jaehyung nor brian, mostly because the truth of kim wonpil the cute sophomore from education major who works part-time at the coffee club liking boys _isn_ _’_ _t_ exactly out for public.

 

* * *

 

it’s monday. wonpil works at the coffee club from five to nine in the afternoon. currently he's situated at the book section, stacking up volumes of haruki murakami’s newest release. the clock just struck six, and the quiet murmuring from the patrons are blending with the indie pop in the background. business is slow at this time of the hour.

the new book is really interesting. wonpil has just started to pick up murakami works after jaehyung recommended _kafka on the shore_ to him. he still needs to check the rest of m to z author list, taking notes on which book is low on number after this, but he can’t help to speed-reading another page of—

“hi, wonpil-sshi.”

wonpil looks up from where he’s kneeling on the wooden floor. a customer holding a cup of strawberry and coconut frappe is smiling at him. ah, right. today is monday. he’ll be here at 5.50 pm to order strawberry and coconut frappe _and_ smiles like a creep. it took wonpil a couple of mondays and wasted amiability that’s probably _twisted_ to the customer's sick liking to realize that the creepy smile is always directed at _him_ —but at least wonpil is always standing behind the protective barrier of the counter, unlike this time.

this time, wonpil feels it. the hairs standing on the back of his neck, followed by the cold realization that the customer could do anything to him now that there’s no barrier between them. he’s memorized the customer's name by default, but he refuses to give the customer any sign of admission. wonpil should just ignore him and runs back to the staff room, but his knees are rooted to the wooden floor. his hands that are holding the small book are trembling with something akin to fear. nobody is sitting at the individual small tables surrounding the book section, and jooheon, dowoon, and hyungwon are too far away all the way at the front of the café to hear wonpil calling them out for help.

wonpil gulps dryly when the customer drops to his knees mere inches from him, still with his creepy smile and a wild glint on his dark, dark eyes that sweep over wonpil’s body in one quick look.

“you weren’t at the cashier,” he begins, voice hoarse and too low to be anything but friendly. “i was worried.”

wonpil wants to look away, but he _can_ _’_ _t_. too scared to do so. he gasps when the customer scoots thisclose to say, “your friend made this for me but you weren’t there. i don’t trust him. can you taste this for me, wonpil-sshi? i don’t trust him.” the customer thrusts the cold cup filled with pink and white liquid and whipped cream right to wonpil’s face.

wonpil manages to shake his head.

the customer blinks, frowns, and forces the red straw to the direction of wonpil’s closed mouth. it pokes the center of wonpil’s lips and wonpil makes a small, surprised sound.

that seems to stir the customer's joy as he gets even _closer_ and puts one heavy arm around wonpil’s slumped, tensed shoulders, trapping him.

wonpil gasps as he’s engulfed in strong flowery scent from the customer and he closes his eyes as he feels the customer's warm breath hitting the skin on his face. he uses his weak arms to block the customer's chest from pressing closecloseclose but he can’t do anything about the red straw that’s hurting his lips.

and then his armpits are pulled by strong but tender hands, and in a flurry of movements wonpil drops the new book to grasp on someone’s thick sweater material—as an anchor for his jelly legs or else he’ll fall again. he buries his face on that someone’s nape, eyes closed tightly he sees red and green dots, listening to someone speaking in loud, intimidating satoori telling the customer _to leave my boyfriend alone you fuckin_ _’_ _fuck._

wonpil whimpers when the customer bites back _wonpil-sshi is mine_ and he wraps his arms around that someone’s solid torso as that someone charges forward, pushing the customer against the bookshelves with a heavy thud and knocking over some books to the floor.

“ _he_ _’_ _s_ _his own_ , motherfucker, you fuck off now and dun ever come back,” the satoori-speaking man hisses and wonpil’s heartbeats are like thunders at those words. “if i ever see yer face again, god help me because i’m not gonna hold back, ya hear?!”

wonpil hears scuffles. he breathes along the satoori-speaking man’s steady heaving, counting up to eleven in rhythm with the rise and fall of the man’s sturdy chest. he keeps his eyes closed when hurried footsteps are drawing near, and he gladly welcomes his savior’s calloused palms squeezing his as the man turns around to face him.

“are you alright?” the man asks, softly, his satoori is gone as if he doesn’t want to spook wonpil, but then he curses almost inaudibly. “jesus fuck, you’re bleeding.”

wonpil’s blurred vision meets with a familiar face that he can’t pinpoint who. the man is looking at the direction of his lips with a mix of concern and anger. wonpil can taste the coppery tang on his lips as he opens his mouth to thank him, but jooheon beats him by screaming,

“oh my god, what happened?!” he widens his eyes at the sight of the fallen books. “wonpillie, are you okay? oh my god your lips are bleeding!” he grimaces and runs to the staff room muttering to hyungwon about first aid kit.

“wonpil-hyung?” that’s dowoon, a frown decorating his face. he’s startled when wonpil lifts his head, and he pulls wonpil away from the man with a gentle tug of his brown colored apron, shielding him with his wider body. he asks the man, his tone is of blatant accusation, “who are you?”

“it wasn’t me.” the man answers, putting up his hands in a mock defense.

“it wasn’t him,” wonpil finds his voice, and it sounds strange to his ears. he slips his arm to hold onto dowoon’s and whispers, “dowoon-ah, that was the strawberry coconut creep.”

dowoon growls, and he apologizes to the man, who stays on the sideline as jooheon comes back with the first aid kit and starts treating wonpil’s wound. his bottom lip’s split open, but it’ll heal after dabbing on antiseptic. jooheon offers him a painkiller but all wonpil needs right now is to sit down and a glass of water.

he gets both. he watches his friends cleaning up the mess and a moment later boss-hyung bursts in, always in style, and boss-hyung personally thanks the man—park sungjin, wonpil’s last year TA at composition class, no wonder he’s kinda familiar.

boss-hyung offers sungjin to have anything he wants for free for the rest of the week. sungjin nods, thanks boss-hyung back, and agrees to have free caramel macchiato, his favorite. boss-hyung goes to personally make one for him, and sungjin waits until everyone’s done and back to their assigned positions before he asks wonpil again if he’s alright.

wonpil nods.

park sungjin is a year older. he’s from jaebum’s circle of friends, and his lecture whenever professor lee couldn’t attend class was remembered fondly. wonpil can’t recall if he ever heard sungjin speaking in satoori, though, but he mentioned about him to jinyoung who’s also from busan. jinyoung said he knew a park sungjin who belonged to a well-known dance club in busan but he didn’t know a park sungjin who could play multiple instruments.

last year, sungjin came to class dressed in a combination of various checkered shirts, always black t-shirts, and ripped jeans. his short hair was dyed light brown. right now, his black hair is parted half in the middle and he’s wearing oversized grey sweater that falls to the top of his thigh. the sleeves of the sweater are drowning his hands and wonpil follows the right one as its fingers are pushing back his black hair. he looks… younger like this. he was a friendly TA, sure he smiled and laughed a lot and was really helpful outside of class, but he painted a clear line between actually becoming friends with underclassmen and being a good TA. right now, not only he looks younger but he also seems more open.

though the latter maybe happens only because he witnessed something unpleasant involving his former student.

“i’m—” wonpil clears his throat. “i’m sorry, sungjin-sshi. b-but thank you so much.”

sungjin takes his time to respond. he moves to sit across from wonpil, big hands clasped together on the rounded table. “that wasn’t the first, was it?” he asks, quietly, but leaving no room for wonpil to dismiss what the creep did to him as nothing, just like he’s been doing for the past couple of weeks.

“that was… he never made any physical contact before,” wonpil explains, glancing at sungjin’s gravely expression. “i—no, everyone knows his schedule. he will come every mondays, 5:50 on the dot, ordering the same thing. i’m just—i’m just distracted today i forgot about him.”

“can your boss ban him from coming?” sungjin asks again, still quietly. “you should file a restraining order. the wound is enough as an evidence for the police.”

wonpil whimpers. he doesn’t even have a driver’s license; filing a restraining order seems too much.

“boss-hyung will ban him from coming,” he answers. “thank you so much, sungjin-sshi. i owe you one.”

“i don’t mind, glad i could help,” sungjin sighs. he rubs his face with one big hand and smiles, “how’s your studies?”

wonpil pauses.

did his heart just skip a beat at the sight of a small smile addressed to him?

“i’m doing well, i hope.” he straightens his spine to sit up taller. he needs to focus. “are you still professor lee’s TA?”

sungjin hums his confirmation, running one big hand again through his black hair.

“i don’t think i’ve heard you speaking in satoori before.”

“yeah it only happens when i’m furious.”

“aaah.” wonpil drawls out, feeling his body getting warmer the more he talks to sungjin in a civilized situation like this. he wishes sungjin will stay even when his caramel macchiato is served. “your anger saved me, sungjin-sshi.”

“i promise you won’t hear my satoori that often.”

“why? but i like it.”

sungjin chuckles, leaning his back to the wall and putting his right ankle to his left knee. he spreads his arms to the back of the chair and wonpil is sure he’s never seen anyone looking so manly doing universal set of movement to search for a more relaxing position to sit.

“i can’t afford to be furious all the time, wonpil-sshi.” sungjin teases.

“that’s true.” wonpil pouts, crossing his arms on his chest. he can tell from his peripheral vision that sungjin is currently looking at him with the same small smile that successfully made his heart skip a beat. wonpil squints his eyes and scoffs, _“_ _what?_ _”_ when sungjin just laughs _at_ him, _fondly_ if wonpil might add, and says,

“you’re still as cute as i remember.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  * translation from day6's _what can i do_ lyric:  
>  you meet all the people in the world  
> but you have no time to give me?  
> you’re too much  
> why do you drive me so crazy?  
>   
>   
> 


	2. TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR THANKS TO fellow DAY6 writer [@ttamarrindo/@jahehyung on tumblr](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ttamarrindo/pseuds/ttamarrindo) for the support this week lmao. [the aesthetic](https://jahehyung.tumblr.com/post/164673820693/sungpil-fake-boyfriendau-based-on) too i cri everyday.  
>   
> to everyone else: thank you so much for commenting, can i get another 10 comments for chapter 2 as well i mean look at the word count ayam shookT writing is a lonely business das why i'm sharing it to you friends.  
>   
> p.s. trust me yeeun-noona is such a TREASURE to write and sungjin is... just tell me what you think/theories/ideas.  
>   
>   
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

on desperate times, wonpil forgets why brian is his favorite hyung—but please don’t tell jaehyung that—and more often than not, brian gladly does his best to remind wonpil why he’s his favorite hyung because:

“wonpillie, how could you? we have jackson.”

and:

“jackson owed me something and he said his own noona told him to try date a boy while he’s at it. he wouldn’t mind posing as your fake boyfriend for saturday.”

thus:

wonpil, jinyoung, brian, jackson, jaehyung, mark, and jaebum are all sitting together at the coffee club’s second floor, where the terrace is opened and the evening breeze is lulling them with the sound of the bustling street down below. there’s no k-indie on the second floor because the speaker was jammed and hyung never bothered to get it fixed, but they’re being loud anyway because jackson is here.

wang jackson! wow, really, how _could_ wonpil? jackson is from hong kong, a sports management major who was once a gold medal fencing athlete. he’s mark’s roommate, the quietest guy among them who shares international business management classes with brian. everything sort of falls into place, since jackson invited himself to brian and mark’s group assignment study session to become a mutual friend. he covers most of the talking for mark _and_ himself when it comes to social situations, and wonpil always, always gets stomach cramp whenever jackson is around! the dude is too funny! jackson loves to be the center of attention and he loves to execute absurd challenges just because! together with jinyoung, they’re same age friends that bicker a lot.

“right, piri piri wonpiri, how could you?” jackson huffs, jutting out his bottom lip. even today, he wears black from head to toe. wonpil can only wish that he will look just as handsome as jackson with black snapback that screams wang in white letters.

“aww nooooo!” and because wonpil can’t look good with snapback, he’ll just do what he does best; clinging to said handsome man, also known as his future fake boyfriend. yeeun-noona is coming in two days. “it’s not like that, jackson-ah, it just didn’t cross my mind to ask you!”

no, really, wonpil didn’t. in between shocking episode with the strawberry coconut creep on monday and two papers that due tomorrow (wonpil just finished them before going to the coffee club), wonpil only waited a good news from one of jinyoung’s friends. but, ugh, for some reason jinyoung seemed to forget about jackson’s existence as well! and now not only wonpil feels bad for neglecting a good friend, but he also feels stupid for stressing over such trivial matter! he’s had jackson all along!

jackson’s favorite color might be black, but he makes the cutest expressions that can rival wonpil’s, which contradicts his build because he packs more _muscles_ than wonpil and mark combined. wang jackson is really one of a kind.

jackson pouts and says, “park jinyoung-sshi, i thought we were best friends? i’d volunteer to be wonpil’s fake boyfriend anytime~”

jinyoung growls. he can’t tolerate jackson parading his aegyo to him. he makes a karate chop gesture and he’s thisclose to hit jackson if it’s not for jaebum stopping him with a gentle hand on the back of his neck.

jackson and brian gush at the display of affection jaebum has established only for jinyoung, and wonpil demands jackson to treat him like _that_ in front of his noona on saturday.

“you bet, babe,” jackson grins, winking at wonpil while throwing one heavy arm around mark’s shoulders. “we should make a list, like, who introduced us and where did we go on our first date and all!”

wonpil widens his eyes.

“jackson is right,” brian whistles, a cheeky smile on his face. “gotta tell her brian-hyungie introduced you two. yeeun-noona knows me, so the background story will sell.”

“right,” wonpil scrunches his nose. “who asked out who?” he asks jackson.

“of course i asked you out first, i fell for your laugh, babe.” jackson answers, as easy as abc. “don’t be weirded out, wonpiri, but imma start calling you ‘babe’ from now on, alright?”

[wonpil giggles and puts a hand on his face, swooning](https://68.media.tumblr.com/d009f0130b3309cc98d8329ba238059f/tumblr_ovonv7WeV71w7hltho1_400.gif).

“okay, what do you want me to call you?”

“nothing but honeyboo.”

for such ridiculous pet name that’s said with the utmost no-nonsense tone, jinyoung throws a napkin at jackson and it lands right on his forehead. jaehyung does a mad cackle and knocks over his iced americano, spilling the content to the rounded table. he curses, and the rest of them are laughing like they’re the live audience at snl korea.

wonpil wipes one lone tear from the corner of his left eye, and jackson commands with urgency at wonpil to protect his dignity from bully jinyoungie!

“jinyoung-ah, leave my fake boyfriend alone.” wonpil does as per requested, and jinyoung scoffs, telling him to continue with the scenario.

“how long have you guys been dating?” he asks without a bite.

wonpil looks at jackson.

“i’d say… three weeks-ish? we started as mutual friends though, but i only did ask you out for real like, three weeks ago.” jackson elaborates and upon wonpil’s hum of encouragement to keep going, he begins to wax poetry about wonpil. “brian-hyung introduced us and i thought, from the very first time i saw you, that your laugh is melodious. then once we’re comfortable with each other i found out that you’re the cutest honeyboo to ever honeyboo, and i was floored. i did everything. texting you first, asked you to study together at the library, brought your favorite… what is it? red velvet frappe?”

“it’s green tea frappe,” jaehyung pipes in, nodding to wonpil’s empty cup.

“green tea frappe, got it.” jackson grins, and winks again.

wonpil claps, excited by the prospect of being saved on saturday, and asks everyone about what does usually a sibling wants to know about their boyfriends or girlfriends.

“thankfully my noona is not noisy.” jaehyung shares his experience first. “she just asked about my ex’s name, age, and photos. but i knew she searched my ex’s facebook profile without telling me,” he chuckles, “back home we shared a desktop and she forgot to log out.”

“same,” mark says, quietly but with his vampiric smile that earns him a reputation among girls and boys, respectively. “i brought my ex to a family barbeque once. it went okay.”

“but didn’t you tell me she cried?” jackson adds after stealing a sip of mark’s mocha frappe.

“oh, right. my dad teased her too much.” mark shrugs and offers wonpil a sympathetic, “i hope your noona doesn’t have a mean sense of humor like my dad.”

wonpil puffs his cheeks. yeeun-noona can appear harmless but she’s got some claws on her elegant exterior. remember that wonpil never got interested in many of her pretty high school friends? there was an episode back then when she refused to talk to him for two days just because he didn’t want to attend prom as one of her friends’ date.

ugh!

not missing a beat, jinyoung says, waving a hand in the air, “don’t worry, jackson just needs to be his usual self and yeeun-noona will want you to break up with him asap.”

“park jinyoung!” jackson yells, standing up noisily. he exaggerates his glare and jinyoung responds by making a kissy face at him. jackson’s glare lasts for about a millisecond and with one blink of an eye he decides that he and wonpil should take a selca together, just in case.

mark moves so wonpil can take his place next to jackson, and jaehyung suggests that jackson posts a candid shot of the two of them on his instagram, again, just in case wonpil’s noona would want to follow jackson’s account in the future.

“or just in case she’s checking it out of curiosity.”

“should i post on my facebook too, jae-hyung?”

jaehyung opens his mouth to answer, frowns, and confirms with a thumbs up. “but like, wait for a couple of hours before posting a different photo on your facebook. or just do it tomorrow. can’t look too eager or she might get suspicious.”

“as expected of our social media guru!” brian copies wonpil’s swooned gesture from earlier, and jaehyung tips an imaginary hat at him.

“what about me?” wonpil inquiries, holding up a hand like a good model student in basic social media 101 class. jaehyung does have amazing insights when it comes to his friends’ social media accounts; he gives cool tips on how to maintain a consistently themed feed and can whip out quirky or thoughtful captions whenever you ask him. he’s not the famous _‘yellowpostitnote’_ with twenty thousand subscribers on youtube that produces quality vlog every week and _‘krapjae’_ on instagram whose stories and posts are always inspiring his fifty one thousand and three hundred followers for nothing!

“nah, you should be good by laying low.” jaehyung links his fingers together, resting his elbows on the rounded table. “but if you have a handful of selcas with jackson, go create a new folder named whatever in your phone. that way it would seem that you’re serious about jackson—i mean, your honeyboo.”

wonpil shrieks then covers his mouth with both palms while jackson looks satisfied by the acknowledgement.

“c’mon babe, a selca won’t take itself,” jackson croons, patting his lap. brian and jaehyung are making loud whooping noises when wonpil complies with ears and neck getting as pink as jinyoung’s strawberry smoothie.

“awwe, don’t be shy!” jackson wraps his toned arms around wonpil’s torso and wonpil yelps. he’s seen jackson doing the same skinship to mark and jinyoung but to be on their position, well, he never thought that it’d feel _this_ _nice_. jackson is so solid under him, his thighs and chest are firm and he smells like generic fabric softener mixed with the artificial ocean. wonpil looks at jackson and they burst out ugly laughing that results in jackson whacking wonpil’s nose with the visor of his black snapback.

“shit, i’m so sorry!” jackson wails, pulling the offending fashion statement backwards, and touches wonpil’s face with his _solid_ but gentle palms. wonpil giggles, reassuring him that he’s okay, and amidst the throbbing on the bridge of his nose and jackson invading his personal space for the first time, he hears a camera shutter.

“you guys are totally natural,” brian grins, lowering his phone. next to him, jaehyung is still on standby with his own. “you two are so cute i want to cry.”

mark lifts a hand and proceeds to shoot himself on the temple while jaehyung asks,

“are you the type to use your boyfriend’s photo as your phone’s wallpaper?” he’s still got his phone on standby, probably recording wonpil and jackson’s predetermined skit.

wonpil bounces on jackson’s lap, considering what he feels whenever he happens to look at a friend’s phone that has their lover’s face on the screen. “jackson is supposed to be my ‘first boyfriend’,” he whines, “um, but i don’t think so? it’s kinda tacky?”

jackson gasps, “hey! my face alone is worthy to grace your phone!”

“sorry honeyboo!” wonpil squeals, surging forward to hug jackson’s _solid_ shoulders, liking the weird awareness of feeling _smaller_ in jackson’s arms.

“okay cut it, you two,” jinyoung rises from his seat and reaches across jaebum to swat a hand to separate wonpil from jackson. “that’s enough footage.”

“honestly park jinyoung is no jam,” jackson blows a raspberry at jinyoung and pats wonpil’s butt gently to get him off. brian hands him his phone to see the candid photo, and he exclaims that of course his face alone saves wonpil from a humiliation of not getting some despite being a handsome dude himself.

“hey!” wonpil tuts, pinching jackson’s _solid_ bicep. the photo has the perfect angle of a meddling friend taking it either for future blackmail material or for the couple’s cherished moments arsenal because he’s the kind of supportive friend that take candid photo for the couple’s cherished moments arsenal, just like brian is in real life with jinyoung and jaebum. wonpil has an arm around jackson’s shoulders, his face is lighting up with a smile so wide his cat’s whiskers are showing and jackson is looking up worriedly at him, thick eyebrows furrowed particularly at an innocent red mark on the bridge of his nose. it’s a great photo, very convincing.

brian sends the photo to jackson’s phone. he opens instagram and lets wonpil choose a filter, but wonpil wants the photo as it is; a filter is going to mar its perfectly staged lie.

“alright! what should i write on the caption, jae-hyung?” jackson addresses the social media maestro.

“lemme see,” jaehyung takes jackson’s phone, types something, then gives back the phone back with a satisfied nod.

“ooohh, nice~” jackson sounds impressed and wonpil sees the iconic two men holding hands emoji. if wonpil thinks about it, the emoji gives off a more mysterious vibe from the candid photo. jackson presses ‘share’ and it’s done. it’s out there. can saturday come earlier?

the whole table is clapping to commemorate the action, and wonpil thanks them all for the support.

brian, as the mastermind behind everything, turns to jaebum and asks, “im jaebum-sshi, anything from you for our wonpillie?”

jaebum smiles, his cat-like features are sharp under the late evening glow. he makes a fist out of his left hand and says,

“fighting.”

it’s short, but wonpil will take anything coming from jaebum! “thank youuu jaebummie-hyung~” he giggles and puts a hand on his face, swooning. everyone but jaehyung is copying him with much gusto and then their conversation takes a whole turn about the importance of vitamin c during the change of the season.

wonpil tunes them out, his shift will start in half an hour. he double taps jackson’s post and decides not to comment because let’s be real, it’s also tacky when his friends comment on their boyfriend or girlfriend’s posts. but that’s just him and jackson is not his actual boyfriend anyway.

he feels someone brushing their knuckles to his temple, and finds jaehyung holding his gaze.

“where’s the kid?” jaehyung lowers his tone, intending the question for wonpil’s ears only.

“dowoonnie called in sick earlier,” wonpil answers, accepting the fact that tsundere!jae-hyung is having a comeback. “changkyun is replacing him.”

“ah.” jaehyung nods, and then they talk about the weather. fall is coming.

 

 

* * *

 

 

on friday, exactly a minute after wonpil finished gender and education class, he gets a kakaotalk message from sungjin, asking whether he’s going to be at the coffee club today. they exchanged contacts on monday after sungjin walked wonpil to the subway station and watched him board the train safely. their last chat was an hour later that day when wonpil arrived at the dorm and was getting ready to sleep.

 

_12:01 pm_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** hi! Yes but I will hve Lunch at the humanities cafetria first!

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** R u going 2 hv the caramel macchiato?

 

_12:02 pm_

**park sungjin :** true lol see y there?

 

_12:02 pm_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** Or wee can hv Lunch tgt somewhr?

 

_12:04 pm_

**park sungjin :** i still have to grade papers

 **park sungjin :** but thx maybe next time

 

_12:05 pm_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** Sure thing Sunjin-sshi

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** * Sungjin

 

_12:07 pm_

**park sungjin :** ㅋㅋㅋ

 

jackson hops by for a quick visit, flirts with fei-noona the floor manager, and wonpil introduces him to sungjin. jackson leaves after recognizing sungjin as one of jaebum’s serious circle of friends, and wonpil bursts out laughing at sungjin’s bewildered, comical expression. sungjin, too, leaves not too long after that and fei-noona asks who was your friend— _no, not_ _jackson, the other one with the oversized white sweatshirt_ —when it’s time for wonpil to go back home.

 

 

* * *

 

 

on saturday, the sun shines. the sky is blue and wonpil wakes up feeling refreshed. he went to bed early right after he came back from the coffee club and found jinyoung already selecting the outfits he’s going to wear today; ironed and folded neatly on top of his bed with a note informing him that he’s staying at jaebum’s for the weekend. jinyoung picked [a vertical striped, white and navy long sleeved shirt](https://68.media.tumblr.com/129a220bfa83a9ad9393c0d9173eef40/tumblr_ot69rsizJ71ufub3mo1_400.jpg) and a pair of tight black, ripped jeans. on his note jinyoung also wrote that wonpil should go with the black vans slip on with white soles to complete his look. the weather is starting to get chilly so he needs to take his black, bomber jacket with him. everything is in its right place and wonpil goes to shower and dabs a bit of jinyoung’s vanilla cologne on his neck and wrists.

before wonpil goes, he sends a reminding kakaotalk message to jackson who had to sleep late because his latest paper got a ton of revision.

he arrives earlier than the designated time at the little café that naver directed him to go as he typed ‘best new place to hang out at hongdae 2017’ last night, and according to jaehyung who already tried it a couple of weeks ago, the place will suit yeeun-noona’s taste; the minimalistic interior exudes a girly, pastel-ish atmosphere, with plotted plants and a variety of colorful flowers placed strategically at the corners. the place serves fusion foods from italian to french to japanese cuisine and jaehyung recommended the salted caramel macaroon, chocolate lava cake with bits of cashews, and strawberry mint milkshake since both wonpil and yeeun-noona are a total sweet-tooth generation.

it’s only ten past eleven.

yeeun-noona’s last kakaotalk message was sent a couple of minutes ago, telling him that she just got in the train. jackson hasn’t replied, and he didn’t pick up his phone when wonpil called—but he could be on his way already, he did say he wanted to ride his dusty motorcycle to go to ‘petit futé’.

wonpil orders the salted caramel macaroon as a starter. he takes selcas because the lighting is so so pretty on the first floor’s outside terrace, and maybe he’ll post one on instagram story? he does, closing his eyes and smiling to the camera, drawing two little hearts at the bottom left corner. the waitress comes back not long after, bringing a tray with two salted caramel macaroons and a complimentary chamomile tea from the barista.

she’s cute, but she doesn’t make wonpil wish he’s straight again. the barista goes to hide from wonpil’s sight after he nods his appreciation for her. the chamomile tea tastes good and it goes so well with the salty sweet treats, the least wonpil can do is to write a thank you note on a piece of napkin later.

he’s browsing through the cutely printed menu when a shadow falls on the pink and blue pastel glossed papers.

“noonaya!” wonpil squeals, standing up and glomping his older sister like they didn’t just spend summer break together back home in incheon with their parents. he misses yeeun-noona so, so much! he hugs her tighter, inhaling the familiar rose and milk scent from her and squeezing her tiny body before letting go.

“you cut your hair?!” wonpil takes in the slight difference of yeeun-noona’s appearance; she used to have a medium length black hair but now it’s just right below the neck, colored like the chocolate chip muffin as seen on the menu.

yeeun-noona flips her hair and grins. “yes after i found out that i’m going to meet my baby brother’s very first boyfriend ever!” she looks the best with red/orange lipstick and she’s wearing her lucky, terracotta colored long coat with simple white blouse and modest black skirt that falls on her knees.

“aww!” wonpil uses one hand to pull a chair for her, the other isn’t letting go because she feels so warm and looks so pretty. “don’t get your hopes high, he’s a mess.” he shakes his head, sitting down and smiling from ear to ear, imagining how fun it would be when yeeun-noona finally meets jackson.

“pfft,” yeeun-noona snorts unladylike, “what’s his name? no no no, don’t tell me. i’ll ask everything about him myself!”

“right, you do that,” wonpil chirps, “did you have breakfast?”

“course i did.” yeeun-noona playfully flicks wonpil’s hands like they’re full of germs and takes the menu. “okay, what should i order?”

“try the salted caramel macaroon,” wonpil says while cutting a tiny piece with the tiny fork. she opens her mouth but her eyes never leave the menu and wonpil feeds him the macaroon, careful not to poke her. she makes a delighted noise.

“jae-hyung recommended this.”

“the fake hipster glasses dude?”

“that’s him.”

yeeun-noona nods again and they agree on ordering vegetable _terrine_ and fried calamari for starters. she wonders if wonpil’s boyfriend will join them for lunch or are they going to meet him somewhere else. speaking of jackson, it’s been a while. wonpil excuses himself to make a phone call and yeeun-noona waves a dismissive hand. as he makes his way to the back of the café, the cute barista yelps when their eyes meet.

jackson still hasn’t answered his kakaotalk and when wonpil calls him, the network operator tells him that the phone is currently out of reach. he tries mark’s number but mark doesn’t pick up his phone either. he’s contemplating to call jinyoung but he doesn’t want to disturb his best friend’s weekend.

when he comes back to their table, yeeun-noona misses his obvious, nervous shuffle and says she needs to go to the restroom. wonpil pouts and stares to his phone, wishing magically jackson will call him back in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6—

 

_11:39 am_

**Mark Tuan :** Wonpilie? Sorry I just woke up

 

wonpil almost drops his phone as he unlocks it to reply to mark’s kakaotalk message.

 

_11:40 am_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** Hyung! Is jjacksoN wit u rn??

 

_11:40 am_

**Mark Tuan :** Long story short I didn’t get back to the dorm last night

 **Mark Tuan :** What’s up?,

 

_11:41 am_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** Jackson is supposd 2 b on a date w me rmembr?

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** But I can’t reach hhim n my nuna is hEre T__T

 

_11:42 am_

**Mark Tuan :** Lemme call our neighbor yea?

 

_11:42 am_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** omg Thank you hyung!

 

“ah, kim wonpil.”

wonpil turns his head so fast he jumps on his seat when he sees park sungjin, of all people. the older man is smiling at him from across the white picket fence, just an arm-length from the table, looking extra handsome with his center parted black hair blown by the wind and his shoulders filling up the fabric of his plain navy (!) colored shirt with a left side breast pocket.

“sungjin-sshi!” wonpil squeaks. “hi! good afternoon!” he bangs his knees under the table and the humiliation is nothing if compared to waiting for mark’s kakaotalk message! where is jackson?!

“eyy, be careful there,” sungjin lifts a hand and it hangs in the air as wonpil awkwardly grimaces. “lunch with someone?”

“y-yeah, my older sister. she—“ wonpil manages to glance at the double door just in time to catch a sight of yeeun-noona exiting the restroom. he gasps, blinks at the afternoon sun reflecting on the shiny top of sungjin’s black hair, and grabs sungjin’s bigbigbig hands while mouthing _please help me_ inaudibly.

sungjin raises an eyebrow but wonpil doesn’t let him question anything as he unnecessarily shouts, nails digging to the calloused skin of sungjin’s palms, “noonaya! this is park sungjin. h-hyung, this is kim yeeun, my older sister.”

yeeun-noona beams.

there’s a small noise of understanding coming from sungjin, and he gently removes one hand to place it on wonpil’s lower back, pressing close to the white picket fence to offer yeeun-noona a handshake.

“park sungjin, it’s nice to meet you,” sungjin greets her and wonpil’s heart skips a beat staring at sungjin’s bigbigbig hand dwarfing yeeun-noona’s. “wonpil certainly didn’t lie when he told me that you’ve been serving looks since 1992.”

wonpil gapes at such smooth line that he would have never dared imagined could be said by a certain park sungjin. what’s even more surprising is that yeeun-noona _buying it_ wholeheartedly!

“oh, this brat!” yeeun-noona’s stinging slap to his arm wakes him up from his stupor, but at least sungjin’s smooth line appeases her. “it’s very nice to finally meet you! come on, have a seat. we just ordered appetizers, sungjin-sshi.”

sungjin hums, pinches wonpil’s waist before he goes to enter ‘petit futé’, and wonpil prays to every god imaginable that jackson isn’t going to show up at all. yeeun-noona is wriggling her prettily drawn and arched eyebrows as if to say that sungjin is quite a catch. who knows that dropping _one_ smooth line did the trick? she must be already thinking of sungjin _fondly_.

“how was the trip, yeeun-sshi?” sungjin asks as soon as he’s seated next to wonpil, smelling like green tea. wonpil bites his bottom lip and tells himself to calm down. from their brief encounter on monday and yesterday, he’s sure that sungjin is a great conversationalist, maybe even better than jackson and his tendency to brag about everything he does—wonpil apologizes to jackson in his head as he tries to be back in the same frequency as sungjin and yeeun-noona.

“nothing much,” yeeun-noona shrugs, “hit me up if you’ll be around incheon and i will treat you meat.”

sungjin nudges wonpil’s side with his elbow, being playful and easily acting so boyfriend-like with his impressed but comical expression. last year, he only showed his smile, his laugh, and his poker face while teaching. this is new. wonpil is in awe with how his big, round eyes are widened to their maximum shape, and he can’t help but to grin along with his fake boyfriend’s fascinating reaction.

“wish my older sister is just as awesome as you, yeeun-sshi.” sungjin clicks his tongue and does the classic maneuver of stretching his arms high only to put one on the back of wonpil’s chair. wonpil can’t _not_ see how _amused_ yeeun-noona is right now.

sungjin doesn’t seem to mind her though. “she’s too cold. maybe because we’re from busan,” he continues, scooting closer so his and wonpil’s thighs are pressed together.

wonpil sniffs but masking it with a lame cough. he has to remember bits of facts that sungjin just basically laid out for him _and_ yeeun-noona so their impromptu scenario will match.

_(sungjin-sshi is from busan and he has an older sister.)_

“you’re from busan? no wonder i thought i heard satoori from you!”

“it’s the only reason why wonpil is interested to date me, to be honest.”

_(apparently, i dated him just because he’s from busan.)_

“oh!” yeeun-noona is, honest to god, _leering_. “ooohhhhh, kim wonpil! so you like cold busan namja, huh?”

wonpil blushes and whines and is rescued by the same waitress who brings out their ordered appetizers. sungjin asks her gently what’s the special of the day and orders that, while yeeun-noona opts for _pollo sorrentina_ and wonpil a plate of scottish salmon. and because it’s a beautiful day, sungjin orders a glass of red wine for each one of them, since yeeun-noona insists that they could just drink soju at any _pojangmacha_ later on.

“noonaya will beat us over how many bottles of soju she can drink,” wonpil takes his revenge by revealing her most embarrassing talent. “she’ll probably beat jackson.”

sungjin laughs like drinking with jackson is a frequent pastime to him.

“really?” he shifts his upper body so he’s facing wonpil and wonpil clears his throat at their proximity. he dies a little when sungjin runs one big hand through his hair and his eyes are following each of the black strands’ movement as they fall back to his forehead.

“yah, kim wonpil, don’t spoil the fun this early!” yeeun-noona scowls, kicking wonpil’s left shin with her low-heeled black boots. “sorry. anyway, are you guys from the same major?”

“you took a minor in music theory, right?” sungjin asks, tilting his head, killing wonpil some more with the new angle of his handsome face. sungjin’s arm is still resting on the back of wonpil’s chair and if wonpil leans towards it he’ll argue that it’s because he’s supposed to look _clingy_ to his fake boyfriend.

wonpil bites his bottom lip and nods to answer sungjin’s question.

“i was his TA when he took composition class last year.” sungjin blinks, licks his lips, and focuses his attention back to yeeun-noona like a pro. “he was a bright student, always sat in front, right at the center. so small and cute.”

“oh my,” yeeun-noona coos, putting a hand on her face. “tell me you tease him a lot, sungjin-sshi. if you don’t, you should! wonpiri is the cutest when he whines, but i’m sure you already knew that.”

“ _’wonpiri’_?” sungjin smiles, his round eyes softening around the edges. “that’s so cute.”

wonpil doesn’t care that he’s openly blushing now.

“it’s his nickname since forever,” yeeun-noona explains, a smirk on her face. “he invented it back when we were toddlers.”

“oh my, is no one going to have some fried calamari?” wonpil forces a chuckle and dips a fried calamari to the spicy mayo sauce and it breaks the spell as they all get busy eating the appetizers.

sungjin doesn’t eat much but he drinks half of wonpil’s cold chamomile tea while waiting for his sparkling water. yeeun-noona finishes the vegetable terrine by herself and then their foods arrive simultaneously.

while yeeun-noona snaps a few photos for her instagram, wonpil hurriedly types his apology on his phone’s note app that says:

 

_Sungjinsshi im so so so soryry I owe U one BIG TIME I will do anything u ask me to I promise thank you im sor rosy T__T_

 

sungjin reads it, calm like the ocean, and takes wonpil’s phone to type back:

 

_Sungjinsshi im so so so soryry I owe U one BIG TIME I will do anything u ask me to I promise thank you im sor rosy T__T_

[It’s nothing. I’m glad I can help. The real fake boyfriend didn’t show up? :)](https://marks-hyung.tumblr.com/tagged/fake-boyfriend%21sungpil-AU)

 

wonpil muffles a squeal with the back of his hand because wow!? park sungjin is an angel?!

 

_Sungjinsshi im so so so soryry I owe U one BIG TIME I will do anything u ask me to I promise thank you im sor rosy T__T_

_It’s nothing. I’m glad I can help. The real fake boyfriend didn’t show up? :)_

_IDK WHERE Jackson is??????? Seriously thank u I owe you one sungjin-shi :(_

 

_12:20 pm_

**WANG :** HONEYBOO WONPIRI?

 **WANG :** I JUST WOKE UP

 **WANG :** MY NEIGHBOR HAD TO ASK THE RA TO OPEN THE DOOR they thought i was dedad shit my phone was off too

 

_12:21 pm_

**WANG :** bro im late aren’t i?

 

sungjin chuckles as wonpil shows him jackson’s abrupt kakaotalk message. he takes wonpil’s phone, switches on the camera app, and aims a blurry selca of himself looking at the camera and wonpil looking at him with a big question mark on his confused face.

“sent,” sungjin sing-songs, “we have to keep your friends intrigued.”

oh.

_oh._

wonpil splutters, flushing and whining when sungjin pinches his cheek like a real boyfriend would. he whines again when he has an incoming call from jackson. he gets up, almost knocks his chair over, and trips on his feet as he mumbles and gestures vaguely at his phone. he curses under his breath as his thumb slips and he drops his phone, and then he’s yelling,

“wang jackson!”

jackson, in return, also screams his lungs out, “BABE! oh my jesus, what the fuck was that? that’s park sungjin, right?”

“yes, no thanks to you!” wonpil wails now that he’s inside the empty restroom. he locks the door and checks his reflection on the oval mirror. his face and neck and ears are red. “listen, what happened? i was lucky sungjin-sshi happened to pass by!”

jackson takes a deep breath and he sounds shaky as he tries to speak clearly, “bro, i’m really really sorry. i overslept like, my phone was out of battery too! mark called our neighbor and i didn’t even wake up when he banged on my door. the RA had to use a spare key and i was unfortunately naked when they found me.”

wonpil snorts because at least jackson is alive and he’s got sungjin to be his fake boyfriend for the rest of the day. he’s not going to dwell on it.

“i want a divorce.” wonpil says whatever that comes in mind and jackson chokes on a laughter.

“aw, babe, don’t be like that,” he sighs. “seriously tho, wonpiri, i’m so sorry.”

wonpil smiles and scrunches his nose at his own reflection. “it’s okay, it’s all under control. go grab some food.”

“yeah you look cozy with sungjin-sshi,” jackson says matter-of-factly. “wait, does it mean i have to delete the instagram post?”

“it’s up to you,” wonpil tucks his phone in between his chin and clavicle so he can wash his hands. the cold water calms him down. “it’s a good photo.”

“true,” jackson pauses to yawn loudly. “sorry. i’ll just, like, remove the caption. thankfully i haven’t posted anything on my facebook yet.”

wonpil giggles, drying his hands with a paper towel. he bids goodbye and jackson demands to be given details of the event and wonpil can breathe easier when he gets out of the bathroom. he’s got some springs on his steps and his smile is sincere when sungjin welcomes him back with his gentle, gentle eyes.

“who was that?” yeeun-noona asks. “you dropped your phone.”

“a nosy friend.” wonpil plops down on the chair, clearing his throat as he tries his best not to make eye contact with sungjin next to him. “it’s fine, noonaya. let’s eat! i’m starving~”

 

 

 

hongdae is bustling alive this afternoon; good looking people are flocking together in groups, enjoying live music performances or magic tricks. they stop for a good ten minutes as a rookie girl group is doing a guerilla concert near daiso, and sungjin gets a free, autographed CD because he volunteers to learn the choreography along with five other strangers. wonpil is filming everything because when it comes to park sungjin, surprises just don’t seem to have an end; the man got some groove! yeeun-noona is being hysteric as she whispers loudly to wonpil’s ears _where the heck did you find him?!_ —and if wonpil is a better man he would have asked sungjin to tone down his way too perfect fake boyfriend persona since it wouldn’t do him any good that yeeun-noona isn’t going to hear from sungjin anymore after this, except that wonpil is not, a better man that is, because it’s nice.

having park sungjin as his fake boyfriend is nice.

“hyung, you look ridiculous,” wonpil teases sungjin when they continue their wandering around hongdae. “you looked like you were electrocuted.”

“that’s the point,” sungjin chuckles, inspecting the colorful CD. “do you have tissues?” he asks, and wonpil just realizes there are drops of sweats on the tips of his black hair.

“here.” yeeun-noona is quick to provide, and wonpil has a wild thought that if only jackson was here, and if circumstances allowed, he would introduce sungjin to her. they match well.

….

_um._

“yah, don’t pout. do you guys mind if i make a quick stop to etude house?” yeeun-noona stops on her tracks right in front of said makeup store, tickling the underside of wonpil’s chin with her fingers. usually, she can read him like an open book but maybe this time she misinterprets his pouting as wanting to be alone with sungjin, whom she thinks is his real boyfriend. “i need new lip tint and stuff.”

seriously. she’s the best. wonpil isn’t going to correct her assumption whatsoever, because he’s not a better man, remember? besides, he needs to have a quick chat with sungjin anyway.

“go ahead noonaya,” wonpil nods, looks around, and finds his own favorite makeup store. “there’s tony moly. can we meet again here in a couple of minutes?” and then they part ways with sungjin obediently trailing after wonpil.

“sungjin-sshi did you have somewhere to be?” wonpil asks as they enter the makeup store.

“me? no?” sungjin shakes his head.

“i mean before you got involved in this mess.” wonpil whines, feeling bad if sungjin really did have somewhere to be.

“ah, yeah. i was just going to meet a friend,” sungjin pats wonpil’s back gently as if to tell him not to worry. “but she bailed out in the last minute, so i’ve got nothing to lose.” when wonpil is too stunned to answer him—it’s thanks to the fact that the friend is a ‘she’—he casually diverts the topic.

“what are you looking for?” he asks, glancing at the selection of mascara. they are the only guys in the store.

“i dunno,” wonpil hums, feeling stupid and embarrassed. of course a man as fine as park sungjin have a friend, a girl, to be exact, with whom he was supposed to hang out with on saturday, unlike wonpil who could only stare at the university’s star basketball player with arms made of bulging muscles and jawline sharper than his own with a help from alcohol.

who is wonpil trying to kid?

“anyway,” wonpil cuts his own inner monologue, it’s no use to compare himself to sungjin. “tony moly is the brand i like. do you know B1A4, sungjin-sshi?”

“B1A4?” sungjin frowns and wonpil nods towards the posters of his ultimate idol group that are scattered all over the store. a recognition dawns on sungjin’s face. “aren’t they the junior high schooler’s favorite boy group?” his smile is full of mirth. “you’re not fifteen.”

“hey!” wonpil grins. “never insult someone’s ultimate idol group.”

“sorry.” sungjin does sound like it and wonpil forgives him. “who’s your bias?”

“CNU, the one who looks like a bear.”

“she- _what_? is he your ideal type?”

wonpil gasps. he might be the rarity that is male BANA, but he’s not that delulu!

sungjin bops his nose gently and moves closer, bending his knees to take a hand cream sample. “what? i’m just curious. tony moly probably became your favorite brand because B1A4 is the spokesperson. am i right or i am right?”

“shut up,” wonpil pouts, “you don’t understand art.” as haughty and obnoxious as it sounds, wonpil does love B1A4—and yes shin dongwoo, stage name CNU, nicknamed bear by fans, might be the closest to his ideal type but who knows—with all of his heart. he collects their CDs and are never absent to attend their concerts. does he go to fansignings? you bet.

“i’m really sorry,” sungjin smiles, testing the weight of a hand cream on his palm. “this smells like the bakery,” he says, uncapping it and squirting the tiniest amount of cream to the back of wonpil’s left hand, then proceeding to rub it evenly using his calloused fingers.

if wonpil’s heart skips a beat it’s nobody’s business but his. all of his friends’ hands are almost always bigger than his, anyway. sungjin is also his friend, kind of.

“yeah it does,” he mumbles, and grins helplessly when their eyes meet, body and mind turning liquid at the chaste ministration. they’re _thisclose_ wonpil can count sungjin’s eyelashes and two identical piercing holes on both of sungjin’s ears.

“you two, stop killing these innocent girls.”

wonpil jerks, pulling his hand away from sungjin’s hold as yeeun-noona comes to sight holding etude house’s pink paper bag. he finds a group of teen girls giggling when he happens to look at them, and he snatches a random item near him, marching to the cashier who’s doing her best not to giggle as she scans the item.

a bottle of pastel green nail polish.

“that’d be 7,000 won, sir.” she might not be giggling but the store manager sure does.

wonpil pouts. he knows they’ll let it go if they see his aegyo. “it’s—it’s for my noona!”

the cashier nods like she understands, and the store manager slips a mini B1A4 poster to the plastic bag for wonpil. she bids him a good day and wonpil bows at her, tripping on his feet again, prompting sungjin and yeeun-noona to laugh _at_ him.

“for you, noonaya.” wonpil grumbles, taking out the nail polish and putting it in the etude house paperbag. he tells sungjin to put the girl group CD in the plastic bag alongside the mini B1A4 poster, and sungjin offers to hold it for him. whatever.

yeeun-noona is sensing his sudden bad mood. “umma asked me to buy her a new coat,” she snakes a hand to the crook of wonpil’s arm, leaving sungjin to walk alone behind them. “she wants uniqlo.”

“okay.”

“why are you mad?”

“i’m not mad.”

“yes you are.” yeeun-noona mocks. she whispers, “listen, baby bro. communication is important.”

wonpil clicks his tongue. “what are you talking about?” he glares at her but not without a pout.

“you know what i’m talking about.” she clicks her tongue as well. “i’ll go home after this.”

“ehh, why?” wonpil whines, stomping his left foot. “i thought you said you wanted to spoil me rotten with your paycheck? i want new shoes.”

“ha, are you sure you still want me third-wheeling?” yeeun-noona scoffs, faking an offended look when she said _third-wheeling_. “i can’t wait to tell appa and umma about your very first boyfriend ever!”

“no no no, not yet, please, noonaya? i mean, i just. we just. it hasn’t even been three weeks? i guess?” wonpil bites his bottom lip. he clenches his fists in order to calm down or else his nervousness will make her suspicious. “we haven’t had our first month celebration yet.”

“oh, really?” yeeun-noona pauses. “could’ve fooled me.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 _Mark Tuan created ‘wonpiri ♡_ _sungjinnie’ group_

 _Mark Tuan added_ WANG, Kim Wonpiri (◡‿◡✿), Jae Park, Def JB, _and_ Peach Nyoung _to ‘wonpiri ♡_ _sungjinnie’_

 

_14:07_

**Mark Tuan** _sent a picture_

 **Peach Nyoung :** WHERES JACKSON??

 **WANG :** babe im here

 

_14:08_

**WANG :** relax wonpil is in good hands

 **WANG :** good guitarist hands? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 **Peach Nyoung :** wonpillie?????????????

 

_14:09_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** Hiiiiiii

 **WANG :** hii

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** Not U Jackson

 **WANG :** T__T

 **Def JB :** wow park sungjin

 **Jae Park :** wow park sungjin (2)

 **Mark Tuan :** wow park sungjin (3)

 

_14:10_

**Peach Nyoung :** is park sungjin treating you well?

 **Peach Nyoung :** @wonpil

 

_14:13_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** !!!!!!!

 

_14:15_

**Mark Tuan :** hes cool

 **Def JB :** hes cool (2)

 **Jae Park :** I want receipt tbh

 **Def JB :** don’t worry he rly is

 

_14:16_

**Def JB :** but if sungjin didn’t treat u well just tell me

 **WANG :** same I feel resonspobile

 **WANG :** *responsible

 **Peach Nyoung :** You bet

 

_14:17_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** Thank you JAebummie-hyung~

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** Sungjin hyung is great!

 **WANG :** ‘sungjin hyung’

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** Bbaiiing~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. THREE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- ah, park sungjin
> 
> \- this chapter is long overdue, i truly apologize LMAO hopefully it won't happen again gotta keep the hype y know?
> 
> \- tell me whachu think lol I'M NERVOUS ABOUT ~~sungjin~~ THIS chAPTeR if you have any interesting prediction tell meh plz
> 
> \- spoiler? [but check this out](https://marks-hyung.tumblr.com/post/167069131579/willing-heart-discussion-do-you-think-its)  
>   
>   
>   
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it continues like this:

wonpil keeps on lying because that’s the only logical thing to do; yeeun-noona is following him on instagram and facebook, and he said it himself that it wasn’t that long since he and sungjin started dating.

not surprisingly, sungjin agreed to keep playing along.

[“name one thing you’ve never done?”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12487444)

wonpil scrunches his nose. he hasn’t done a lot of _things_ , to be honest.

“um,” he licks his bottom lip, chasing the flavor of the freshest kimchi he’s had for a while. he puts his chopsticks and leans back against his chair, knocking his foot against sungjin’s under the table. “sorry. but promise you’re not going to laugh.”

sungjin tilts his head, an inquiring smile on his handsome face. today he’s wearing black turtleneck. like always, the material is loose on his broad frame, and his ankle-length cotton pants are also black. the only color he has is from his pair of classic white reebok, and the red water bottle that wonpil remembers he always carried everywhere even while he was teaching.

currently they’re having lunch at sungjin’s favorite beef noodle restaurant. it’s packed with elderly instead of people their age even though the place is still located around their university’s neighborhood. if they were really dating, it might not be the most romantic place because wonpil is a sap like that, but they aren’t, and the food is really delicious, so wonpil is not complaining.

not like he has the luxury to complain, anyway.

“i promise.”

“i’ve never flown on a plane before.”

sungjin doesn’t even pause when he asks, “surely you’ve been to jeju island?”

“i have! but we took ferry and buses the last time, i mean, my family and i.”

“do you have acrophobia?”

wonpil shakes his head. “it’s not that,” he answers, “i did bungee jumping and parasailing before.” he’s glad that sungjin is mature enough about his lack of basic life experience. jaehyung had laughed at him when he told him. but then again, speaking of basic life experience, wonpil has never kissed a guy either, despite being gay, so there’s that.

“then we’ll just take a plane to go somewhere next time.”

“only if you’re paying for my flight ticket, sungjin-hyung.”

sungjin snorts, rolling his eyes in a somehow ridiculously attractive way only he can do so and wonpil giggles, putting a hand on his face, swooning. they decided to drop the formalities as soon as they found themselves having a hearty dinner after yeeun-noona went back to incheon. wonpil had insisted to pay, but sungjin wasn’t having none of it; in the end they split the bill and sungjin walked him back to the dorm because their heated discussion of the entire coldplay discography couldn’t just stop after two bottles of shared soju.

it’s been exactly eleven days.

“where are you heading after this?” sungjin asks, the trace of his handsome smile is still lingering around his pretty, pretty eyes. they’re so round and just big, and wonpil remembers aside from sungjin’s nose, his eyes were the first thing he noticed the moment sungjin walked into the music composition class last year and introduced himself as the teaching assistant. sungjin’s eyes are right _there_ , like a set of sparkling marbles, to contradict his whole appearance.

if you saw him for the first time, charismatic, handsome, and/or manly would be the first impression that struck, together with all broad everything; broad laugh, shoulders, hands, thick thighs, looking taller than he actually is because of how he carries himself. he’s dressed like half the population of seoul national university, probably isn’t even really paying attention to his appearance, yet his comfortable choice of clothing can’t dampen his captivating aura. wonpil—plus everyone else who has said so on occasions with more gusto that always makes him shy—considers himself as quite handsome. sure, his face and appearance get people turning heads, but he doesn’t make them _blush_ ; not those younger girls giggling in school uniform or matured women looking sharp and gorgeous and unattainable—unlike sungjin with his natural suave acts. and he’s doing the suave acts effortlessly, too, from what wonpil can understand since they’ve been on a couple of fake dates already.

today wonpil concludes another gem of park sungjin’s suave 101; the ridiculously attractive eye-rolling shenanigan. he wonders if he can do it? will guys find wonpil rolling his eyes attractive like he does sungjin doing it? maybe not. wonpil is _cute_ , and he likes being cute.

he replies after taking the last spoonful of the rich beef soup, “the coffee club.”

“but it’s wednesday.”

“ah.” wonpil scrunches his nose, licking his lips again. “after you saved me from the creep, hyung changed my shift. now i’m working from wednesday to friday, five to nine.”

“has he come back?”

“thankfully no,” wonpil huffs. “would you like to have a refill?” he nods towards the emptied glass of barley tea on sungjin’s left side.

“yes, please.” and wonpil gets up, taking his and sungjin’s glass to the designated table where eating utensils, glasses, and a huge kettle are situated. as wonpil pours the barley tea into their glasses, it begins to rain in splatters. when he gets back to sit down, the rain transforms like the sky is ripped open and someone is pouring an endless amount of cold water.

“aww, no! i forgot my umbrella,” wonpil grumbles, blowing the steam off his tea.

“i’ll walk you to the coffee club.” sungjin says, _easily_ , like they’ve been friends for a long time already. like wonpil didn’t drag him into a mess that involves fake dates and updating his instagram story with dating-esque, aesthetic photos of sungjin doing basically anything without actually showing his face on the frame; sungjin playing with his phone, elbows resting on his knees, the focus is on his broad hands; sungjin walking ahead, black hair glinting against the lights of itaewon; a photo of their denim clad legs pressing against each other as they ride the subway; and the latest of sungjin’s chin, his black turtleneck, and broad shoulders that wonpil just posted half an hour ago—just so yeeun-noona can see how wonpil, on his sophomore year, is happily dating a handsome guy.

wonpil splutters. “no no, hyung, it’s okay! i’ll just wait here until it’s good for me to run.”

“nonsense,” sungjin tuts. “let me walk you until the nearest 7-11. you can buy a cheap umbrella there for a spare.”

that’s actually… a good idea. he won’t be late to work therefore his amazingly clean record is not going to be tainted. wonpil grins, poking sungjin’s broad hand on the table with a finger and declares, “you’re the best, sungjin-hyung.”

 

 

 

 

 

“did you get laid?”

wonpil drops his phone. he isn’t _this_ clumsy but that was exactly the kind of americanized nonsense jaehyung often blurt out like it’s nothing! what was that?! wonpil is just replying to sungjin’s kakaotalk messages!

ugh!

jaehyung is quicker than him. has longer arms, too; he easily blocks wonpil’s attempt to grab his phone back, making a noise of acknowledgement the longer he scrolls up up up to when wonpil used stickers a lot and sungjin replying with the classic ㅋㅋㅋ.

“jae-hyung!” wonpil whines, “give it baaaaack, come ooooooonn. there’s nothing to see.”

jaehyung tuts. “nuh-uh. that’s for me to judge.” he keeps on scrolling, eyes scanning the chat room like a flying predator selecting its prey on the ground. it doesn’t help that jaehyung looks like a chicken cartoon character, and wonpil bursts out laughing on his own because the imaginary is too vivid in his head, earning a look of bewilderment jaehyung always reserves for him.

“ _jae-hyuuuuung._ ” but this can’t go on any longer! he throws himself to jaehyung, basically hugging the older man to no avail since he still can’t reach for his phone. at least jaehyung is warm in his bundle of oversized knit sweater. the rain hasn’t stopped pouring ever since his shift started, and wonpil can’t wear anything over the black polo shirt and the brown apron uniform. it’s cold. if he’s snuggling to jaehyung’s chest a little bit, it’s nobody else’s business but his.

“do you beg a lot to park sungjin? does he like it?” jaehyung quips after he seems to be satisfied with invading wonpil’s privacy, snaking one long arm around wonpil’s neck, pressing him closer and letting wonpil have his phone back.

if they were in a different kind of scenario, wonpil would have welcomed the reciprocated snuggle from his americanized hyung, but of course jaehyung has to ruin their bonding moment with his americanized nonsense!

“hyung! oh my god!” wonpil slaps jaehyung’s chest and jaehyung yells, pinching his left ear.

“what? i’m just asking questions.” he shoves wonpil off gently, his eyes are narrowed. “look, correct me if i’m wrong. but didn’t he walk you through the rain here?”

“uh, yeah?” wonpil frowns, slumping on the chair and taking a bite of carrot cake jaehyung is offering. “why?” he asks, chewing quietly.

“i dunno, i kinda find it weird that you’re still chatting with him? i mean, you just spent time together.” jaehyung says, raising his eyebrows. “what’s up with that?”

wonpil opens his mouth to retort, but is at a loss. he asks instead, “because we’re friends?”

“sure.”

“jae-hyung, don’t act like we don’t continue chatting even after we just hung out!”

“well, true. thing is, i’m not fake dating you.” jaehyung shrugs. “there’s a huge difference right there, and you should talk to me.” he shifts on his seat, looking weirdly dead serious. wonpil doesn’t understand.

“ummmmm like, yeeun-noona follows my instagram and we’re friends on facebook. i told her that i just started dating sungjin-hyung, and i said she can’t tell mom and dad about it, not yet,” he says. “i have to—i have to keep up the act, don’t you think so, jae-hyung? at least for another month before i can ‘break up’ with sungjin-hyung. anyway, he agreed to help me for the time being, so it’s okay.”

“right.” jaehyung nods, putting his pressed palms in front of his nose, copying the gesture of some american rapper he adores. wonpil follows suit just for the hell of it, but jaehyung doesn’t scold him at all for turning such swag into such cute. he says, sounding weirdly dead serious,

“listen, don’t expect anything, yeah? if he’s right for you, you’ll know. but once you have any sliver of doubt, don’t fool yourself.” jaehyung sighs. “i mean, he’s— _what_ , does he even swing the wonpil way?”

wonpil scrunches his nose and shakes his head. he knows if he so much acts like he’s swooned beyond belief by jaehyung’s uncharacteristic sweet worry, jaehyung will push him off the chair. he’s trying his best not to smile widely.

and to answer the question; no, sungjin _doesn’t_ swing the wonpil way.

“he absolutely adores my aegyo, though,” wonpil says, haughtily, puffing out his chest. “unlike someone.”

jaehyung rolls his eyes. “of course he does.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

life is good. school is fun and work is even more so; on wednesday and thursday his morning shift only goes for three hours. wonpil picked a book of basic japanese language because he finds he has free time to learn it. he checks B1A4’s fanboard, screaming when he sees airport photos of CNU’s newly dyed blonde hair. he posts a particularly dashing photo on his instagram story with lots of hearteyes emoji, and yeeun-noona comments you’ve finally got yourself a bear you greedy fool because she was the one who introduced B1A4 to him six years ago, and they exchange banter for a while in the direct message until she has to get back to work.

wonpil is looking for a heart emoji for his older sister when his kakaotalk group chat pings with a new notification from jackson.

 

_18:01_

**WANG :** YOOOOO gentlemen

 **WANG :** time to hit the Club?

 

_18:02_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** ohhhhhhhhhhh

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** Wait, today??

 **Peach Nyoung :** your insane @jackson

 

_18:03_

**WANG :** *you’re

 **WANG :** but eh anyone up for it? after wonpiri’s friday shift?

 **Mark Tuan :** I could use bit of dancing alr

 **WANG :** that’s the spirit!

 

_18:04_

**Def JB :** i’ll go if jinyoung go

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** Can I bring sungjin-Hyung?

 

_18:05_

**WANG :** suuuuure wonpiri bring ‘sungjin-hyung’

 **Mark Tuan :** I shudnt hav deleted wonpiri ♡  sungjinnie group

 **Mark Tuan :** Is it getting serious wonpillie?

 

_18:06_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** hyuuUnggg nooo just for another few weeks then we’r good!

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** So, tomorrow right? @jackson

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** @jinyoung You haven’t replied JB-hyungs q

 **Mark Tuan :** That’s too bad

 

_18:08_

**Peach Nyoung :** fine i’ll go

 **Def JB :** i promise i’ll just have one beer

 **Peach Nyoung :** fine i have witnesses in this group hyung

 **Peach Nyoung :** @mark no hyung that’s for the best for Wonpil

 

_18:09_

**Peach Nyoung :** remember park sungjin is straight

 

“aww, jinyoungie!” wonpil pouts from where he’s lying flat on his back on his messy bed. “so what if sungjin-hyung’s straight? everybody knows it’s not real.”

jinyoung shrugs, clearly in a bad mood. he doesn’t even look up from his phone and wonpil pouts. maybe he’s been trying to cut off jaebum’s alcohol intake hence the hint of annoyance and threat in the group chat. wonpil can’t remember if jaebum is one of the strongest drinkers in the group, but he makes a mental promise that tomorrow he will help jinyoung to keep an eye on the infamous not-boyfriend.

 

_18:09_

**WANG :** T_T mom, dad pls don’t fight

 **WANG :** also wheres @jae-hyung

 **Mark Tuan :** @jae-hyung

 

_18:10_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** Jae-hyuuuuuuuuuuung

 **Jae Park :** yo

 **Jae Park :** i can’t go

 **Jae Park :** i have a date

 

_18:11_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** WHAT

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** IS IT DOWOON???

 **Jae Park :** dude no

 **WANG :** wait whut dowoonnie??

 **Jae Park :** guys no

 

_18:12_

**Jae Park :** it’s this noona i’ve been seeing jfc

 **Jae Park :** @wonpil what made u think it’s the kid jfc

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** BECAUSE!!!

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** YOU KEEP calling him ‘the kid’ I know u knoo his name!

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** OMG

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** I’M so happy for You jae-hyung

 

_18:13_

**Mark Tuan :** Damn son u fast

 **WANG :** don’t forget to introduce her to us~

 **Peach Nyoung :** jae-hyung is it the bakery lady

 **Jae Park :** that’s the one

 

_18:14_

**WANG :** wait sorry hyung

 **Jae Park :** she’s only 26 okay relax

 **WANG :** phew sorry tho

 **Jae Park :** no biggie

 **Jae Park :** you guys have fun

 **Peach Nyoung :** where are you taking her hyung?

 

_18:15_

**Jae Park :** eh this mediterranean restaurant

 **Jae Park :** she’s not fussy

 **WANG :** maybe if shes got some friends

 **WANG :** hmu

 **Mark Tuan :** hmu (2)

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** Awwwwwwwwww ♡♡♡♡♡

 

_18:16_

**Peach Nyoung :** good luck jae-hyung :)

 **Def JB :** jinyoungie please pick up your phone

 **WANG :** alright! see you guys tomorrow?

 **Mark Tuan :** Peace

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿** **) :** ILY guys

 **Jae Park :** thanks guys @wonpil save it for ‘sungjin-hyung’

 

“why is everyone so mean?” wonpil mumbles, sending a mehrong sticker to the group chat before checking up on jinyoung. his best friend slash roommate is already opening the new novel he bought earlier this week.

but wonpil can see that jinyoung is not reading it at all; his eyes are boring holes in one spot without moving, and wonpil asks in a hushed tone,

“jinyoungie? do you want to have dinner?”

“i do,” jinyoung is quick to answer, “but i don’t know what i want.”

“we can order takeout?” wonpil sits up, switching from kakaotalk to the browser. “let’s have chicken.”

jinyoung sniffs, “can we just go to pizza hut? i need some comfort from carbs.”

“sure thing!” wonpil grins, hopping off his bed to go change. jinyoung follows suit, his movements a little bit sluggish. he doesn’t even bother to style his hair, just combing it with his fingers and donning a bucket hat that belongs to jaebum. it’s too cold to walk to pizza hut even though it’s only ten minutes away, and they’re huddled close as they take the bus. the place is crowded with family; they have to wait before they can get a table.

after ordering, they both realize neither brings a phone with them.

so wonpil resorts to good old conversation, but not until the time passes and he’s gathered courage to speak.

“any idea for halloween’s costume this year?” he asks, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his palms.

“probably a pilot.” jinyoung is finally looking at him and wonpil frowns because jinyoung’s eyes are as empty as the cloudy night sky. “how about you?”

“i dunno, edward cullen?” wonpil gives a random, low-budget character. when jinyoung nods without giving any comment, wonpil reaches out to envelop his smaller hands on top of jinyoung’s bigger ones. they are cold, but it might be the weather. “hey, do you want to talk about it?”

jinyoung is laughing, but it’s just as empty as his eyes.

“to be honest, _no_.” he takes wonpil’s hands in his and squeezes, not letting go. “it’s stupid.”

“it’s okay,” wonpil says, moving to sit on the edge of his seat.

jinyoung brings their entwined hands to his forehead, his face is covered by them and his jacket clad arms. “he’s just been drinking a lot for the last couple of weeks. for _no reason_. because he feels like it.”

“maybe he’s stressed out? maybe being a film major is stressful?”

“it’s not that.”

wonpil gasps. “did he… did jaebum-hyung hit you when he’s drunk?”

“jesus,” jinyoung chuckles, somehow sounding ridiculously _sad_. “no, wonpillie. oh my god this is making me realize that i’m being too much. can you go back by yourself later? i’m so sorry.”

“of course!” wonpil pushes jinyoung’s hands playfully and jinyoung’s smile finally reaches his eyes their matching whiskers are showing. wonpil pretends to look disgusted. “man, i was so worried.”

jinyoung kicks him under the table, also playfully. “yeah? that bad?”

“yes! i wondered if there was a big fight or something.” wonpil huffs, crossing his arms on his chest. “don’t be too hard on jaebum-hyung.”

“i really don’t like it when he drinks.” jinyoung shrugs, like he didn’t cause a stir in their group chat earlier.

“you can always have a talk with him.”

“where’s the fun in that?”

wonpil muffles his unbelieving shriek with one hand and raises the other as if to hit jinyoung and nearly knocks over the waitress who’s approaching with their pizza.

 

 

* * *

 

 

other than jackson, the rest of the group is not really into the nightlife scene. some lowkey parties thrown by rich trust fund kids are tolerable only because of the free booze, but a club? they only go once in a blue moon, and wonpil is embarrassingly a lightweight he’d rather not embarrassing himself even further under the blinding laser lights of a club.

tonight though, there’s this collective air of we-deserve-a-break surrounding them that they’re really putting their best efforts to look sharp they don’t even need to queue (mostly thanks to jackson’s connection and mark’s face). wonpil had asked sungjin to come with him, only sungjin said he will be there in ‘neo culture’ with his friends and that wonpil should come over to their table to say hi. to be honest the sole reason wonpil asking sungjin to go to the club with him is because of the necessary, obligatory selfie for his instagram story, aka _look, noonaya, i’m having fun again with my boyfriend only this time we’re in the club wooohoo!_ —so when sungjin said that he won’t be joining wonpil, wonpil questioned himself why did he feel like he got _abandoned_.

which is weird.

right?

wonpil had jinyoung’s help, again, to select his outfit and to style his hair; his forehead is on display, held in place with jinyoung’s brand new hairspray. he’s wearing slim-fit black suit jacket, deep maroon t-shirt, black trousers, and some clean black sneakers because if mark, the quietest of them all, said he can do some dancing tonight, then so does wonpil; loafers just won’t do.

jinyoung also did his eyebrows, told him to put on bb cream, and lent him dark pink colored—“it’s _fuchsia_ ,” jinyoung had insisted for the –nth time—lip tint that prompted wonpil to think that maybe he needs to start investing on makeup of his own.

it’s just ten minutes to midnight, the dance floor is still kinda sparse of bodies. they get a table near the bar, and everyone has had at least a shot of vodka to warm up, but not jaebum. jackson is already so loud, hyping up the DJ for playing any EDM track that sounds familiar.

wonpil checks his phone. he sent a chat to sungjin informing that he’s arrived but sungjin hasn’t replied.

“hey,” mark says, wrapping an arm around wonpil’s shoulders. he smells so good, like always, like cotton mixed with the artificial ocean. “jackson and i are going to dance. are you coming?”

“go ahead,” jinyoung nods from where he’s sitting halfway on jaebum’s lap. he’s pushing wonpil to get up. “i’ll be here.” they leave their phones and wallets inside jinyoung’s sling bag and jaebum waves at them merrily.

“looks like they’ve made up.” jackson comments as soon as they’re out of the lovebirds’ earshot. he turns to wonpil, squeezing his hand, “hey, tell me if you see someone you like, yeah? i’ll try to be your wingman.”

“me?” wonpil giggles, letting jackson pulling him close amidst the moving bodies on the dancefloor. “i doubt it.”

mark presses close to wonpil’s left side. he shouts to wonpil’s ear, “wonpillie’s too hung up on ‘sungjin-hyung’.”

wonpil slaps a hand to mark’s chest. “hyung, shut it! why would guys be interested in me while there are pretty girls everywhere here?”

“who knows?” mark smiles, and that’s their cue to dance. jackson starts with his signature boogie move, soon attracting people to watch him moving gracefully in rhythm with the pumping bass. his smile is so wide and handsome and he winks to anyone who happens to catch his attention. when the beat drops, he jumps, and the crowd cheers before some dispersing to their own flow. a handful of hot girls are staying and jackson wastes no time focusing on the girl with sleek bob hair and blood red lips.

in one blink of an eye, mark is sandwiched between two girls and wonpil politely indulges one, keeping his hands to himself all the while. they dance to one song, exchange smiles, and wonpil slightly bows at her before gliding his way out of the dancefloor.

he’s sweating a little bit. when he gets back to their table, jinyoung and jaebum are making out heavily with jinyoung’s back to the crowd, perched comfortably on jaebum’s lap. wonpil pretends to tut disapprovingly as he sits down.

he checks his phone again.

 

_00:21_

**park sungjin :** saw u havin a good tiem

 **park sungjin :** anw im on the second floor

 **park sungjin :** come over later yeah?

 

wonpil bites his bottom lip, _hard_ , telling himself that he doesn’t really have a legit reason to smile. jinyoung is moving and moaning across from him and wonpil gets up, flinging a tissue that hits the back of jinyoung’s head. he hurries off to search for the stairs leading to the second floor. it seems as if once the clock strikes midnight, the dancefloor becomes a mass magnet. wonpil has to use his elbows while shouting apologies as he fights the throng of buzzed people. he’s sweating some more when he reaches the stairs but the thought of finally meeting sungjin while his friends are busy having a good time is making him excited.

only to find the one who might help him have a good time is already having a good time of his own.

sungjin is wearing a simple, long sleeved black shirt, probably unbuttoned with how he’s usually dressing himself, probably has a plain white t-shirt underneath—but wonpil will never know because sungjin has his back on him, has his broad hand perched low on a girl’s waist, like, _real low_ to be considered friendly. wonpil has to pause to wonder why is his heart beating so fast.

the girl is wearing a very flattering skater dress, her legs are slim and her high heels are simple but they look expensive even under the dimmed neon lights. her nails are painted in different pastel colors, and her dainty hands seem familiar with the slope of sungjin’s broad shoulders and the hollow of his thick neck. wonpil swallows dry saliva, tasting the bitterness that’s not vodka on his palate, and lets out a chuckle.

he gets proposed to a dance by a tall girl when he’s nursing his second cocktail on the bar, but he turns her down politely. he’s stuttering when an older man on his early thirties is sliding up next to him, buying him a glass of classic martini, treating him like he’s the most precious with his tender words and curious questions. he’s _dashing_. everything he wears, from head to toe, screams money. he doesn’t touch wonpil anywhere, and when wonpil is just beginning to warming up to him, they haven’t even exchanged names yet, jinyoung appears bearing a bad news that they have to go back _now_ —which is a total, complete lie, judging from the glare he’s giving the unassuming stranger.

wonpil puts the older man’s business card in his wallet, and spends the last remaining of their time in the club cuddling jaebum just because jinyoung can read him so well; he doesn’t ask anything as they ride the uber back to their dorm, and wonpil is glad.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“is it okay to have lunch with me today, hyung?”

“what do you mean?”

“um, it’s sunday. how about your girlfriend?”

“what girlfriend?”

“the one you took dancing in the club?”

“she’s not my girlfriend."

well. wonpil is pretty sure that he’s blushing right now, but sungjin acts like he doesn’t acknowledge wonpil’s hint of accusation and display of slight unwillingness to share—he’s just giving wonpil a knowing, fleeting smirk that sends wonpil into a spiral of confusing emotion. sungjin asks why didn’t you say hi even though you saw me and wonpil says i didn’t want to ruin anything.

sungjin’s laugh is _loud_ , unnecessarily so, like he finds wonpil trying to be considerate amusing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [aesthetic courtesy of the amazing @ttamarrindo/@jahehyung on tumblr go go.](https://jahehyung.tumblr.com/post/164673820693/sungpil-fake-boyfriendau-based-on)   
>    
> 


	4. FOUR (part i)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- lol i'm nervous af can we, me as writer you as reader, make a deal?
> 
> \- at least 10 comments/chapter to boost up my ego so i will update faster
> 
> \- that's not asking too much right lol  
> 
> 
> \- honestly i hope you will accept this chapter and get excited for the future
> 
> \- bYe sUNgjiN
> 
> \- hi hello The New Guy (thanks dowoon)
> 
> \- #LetWonpilGetTheD2k18
> 
> \- thanks jinyoung  
>   
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“i’m so sorry!” the guy apologizes, not only sounding sheepish but also mortified. “i’m really sorry, oh my god.”

wonpil blinks. sure he collides with people but can someone explain how in the world did he end up on his butt on the cold pavement leading to the main library building?

the guy who crashed over him is already crouching to gather his two heavy (!) textbooks and clipped papers and wait—

is that his phone lying a foot away from where he’s letting the rear of his favorite jeans go damp?! this is all too much for a monday morning!

“um.” the guy follows wonpil’s stunned expression and squeaks, literally crawling on his knees to retrieve wonpil’s phone, apologizing again and again for not paying attention to his surrounding.

“it’s fine.” wonpil clears his throat, coming back to his senses. how hard must be the collision was until his phone went out of his hand? he gets back to his feet, patting his butt and then his palms, and is the guy really blocking the october sun?

ooohh the guy is _sooooo tall_.

“are you okay?” the guy asks again, handing over wonpil’s phone. his _huge hands_ are a comedic contrast to wonpil’s much, much smaller ones. if wonpil is flustered right now that’s only because he’s never met anyone taller and bigger than him by this much, really. jaehyung doesn’t count.

“thank you.” wonpil says because the guy waits until the phone is pocketed in wonpils’s skintight black jeans before giving back the two heavy textbooks and papers. “i’m, uh, i’m okay,” he continues with a small smile.

the guy blurts out, “have we met before?” and wonpil can’t not tilting his head up to scan over the guy’s face; a pair of double-lidded eyes, cute nose, grimacing cupid bow lips—wonpil understands it must be embarrassing to just blurt out the question!—his sharp V-like chin, and the fringe of his jet black hair falling to one side. his haircut is so cool, by the way.

wonpil grins. no, he doesn’t think he can forget such remarkable face and height and accented korean. “no? but it’s nice to meet you,” wonpil answers, giving a slight bow before stepping to the side because if he doesn’t start running now, he’s going to be late to his creativity and education class. “have a nice day!” wonpil lifts a hand to wave, fails to see the one second too late reaction from the guy, and runs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

wonpil is keeping track, but he argues that’s only because his noona is an avid instagram user. just like him. both of them are active on story; having two to three story posts per-day, sometimes even more when the event is particularly funny and worth showing off to their followers.

like fake dating a handsome junior, for example.

the problem is, it’s been three days, and wonpil hasn’t hung out with sungjin ever since they had lunch last sunday when wonpil posted sungjin looking away, pictured in the middle of calling a waiter to order with one hand raised and the other on the table; thick fingers displayed over the wooden material. sungjin was wearing an oversized denim jacket and white henley t-shirt. his black hair was a mess. wonpil remembers he wanted to hug sungjin for no apparent reason just because he had looked so _broad_ and warm.

the last time sungjin sent him a chat was forty minutes ago, asking his whereabouts. if only wonpil didn’t make plan with dowoon to accompany the younger to a hair salon, wonpil could have a new ammo to post on his instagram story since sungjin asked him out to have a night snack at a pojangmacha near wonpil’s dorm.

anyway, to be honest, it’s really weird getting so worked up because of a white lie.

“wonpil-hyung?”

“yes, my baby?”

dowoon bursts out laughing. he’s a nice kid from busan who never fails to indulge in wonpil’s top notch version of affection, as said by jaehyung who of course passionately rejects it thanks to being americanized. dowoon though. he lets wonpil cling to him and buy him banana milk whenever they have a shift together. the ‘my baby’ has only happened recently; dowoon got braces on his lower teeth last week and wonpil couldn’t help the happiness he felt upon seeing the orthodontic device, also for no apparent reason, most likely because he thought dowoon getting them at eighteen further cementing his position as the older one in their friendship. wonpil has always wanted a younger brother.

but real talk; do you know who else is originally from busan and also nice?

 _that’s right_ , wonpil is being unreasonably emo as dowoon tells him that he’ll just change then they’re good to go, _sungjin-hyung._

dowoon has to pause mid-sentence, making a questioning face at him, and asks, grinning, like he can read wonpil’s mind,

“you okay, wonpil-hyung?”

“hey, stop making that cute face!” wonpil yells, thrusting his arm forward to pinch dowoon anywhere that he can reach. but he can’t, because he’s sprawled on the staff room’s fluorescent pink bean bag and dowoon is taking off to where the locker is with his reverberating baritone chuckle.

okay, fine. wonpil might miss sungjin a little. the older man has been a constant, warm addition in wonpil’s mundane (but still colorful!) life, slotting himself as a very much welcomed friend who’s different than wonpil’s usual group; sure brian is the smoothest with girls, but sungjin is the real life embodiment of _suave_ that if wonpil was slightly straighter he would have been oh so envious of sungjin’s _everything_.

he’s not even straight to begin with. but if he can’t be sungjin then what is it that keeps screaming quietly at him to be recognized?

sniffing, wonpil checks his phone again for the –nth time. sungjin sent a bear sticker on kakaotalk fifty minutes ago. wonpil switches to instagram, hoping to see a new update from sungjin, but finds none. sungjin did liking random posts about two hours ago, ranging from aurora borealis, a mixtape digital album, selcas (girls), and a buzzfeed tasty video.

wonpil is contemplating whether to post something to indicate that he’s still in a ‘relationship’, strictly for his noona’s consumption. he opens the front camera of instagram story, picks the rainbow filter, and snaps a pouting selca. it looks good enough, the front camera is not grainy or anything after the collision the other day and his straightened hair still looks bouncy. wonpil types _miss u_ for the caption.

he hits post.

dowoon comes back a little later with a black mask hanging off one ear. wonpil jumps to his feet, puts on his long coat, and gasps when dowoon offers his arm so they can walk while cuddling each other. they say goodbye to jooheon and changkyun, and wonpil whines once they’re out on the street. the wind is really getting stronger at the end of october.

“are you hungry?” wonpil asks, resting his chin on the plane of dowoon’s solid shoulder.

dowoon hums, “i could eat.”

“let’s have ramyun after we got your haircut,” wonpil says, because eating at a pojangmacha is always a good idea no matter with whom he’s going. “my treat.”

the hair salon is a special occasion because dowoon is going on a date this upcoming saturday. he wanted wonpil to come with him to the hair salon because he said he’s been admiring how wonpil dresses himself. wonpil told him that it’s all thanks to his roommate, who has the same name as our boss hyung, the one boss hyung said looks like an actor, remember?—and wonpil, feeling like a true older brother since dowoon decided to ask his advice on fashion for a _first date_ , agreed to lend a hand in grooming the younger boy. they’re going to go shopping at hongdae tomorrow.

“tell me about her again.” wonpil says, moving his hand to entwine it with dowoon’s, swinging them. he enjoys witnessing how red dowoon’s ears become whenever there are girls involved. it’s cute.

dowoon whines, “but i already did!”

wonpil whines right back at him, louder, his stomping grander, making strangers turning heads, and dowoon easily relents. he clears his throat.

“i told you we went to the same high school back home, but we were never in the same class. she was the captain of the girls’ track team.”

“i know i know, i just can’t help it! i like to see you get all flustered because of her! don’t stop!”

dowoon pouts again, but he always does what wonpil asks him to do. he retells the story of how he remembers that she had a ‘girl crush vibe’ because her hair was always cut short he could see her nape. how she always tied the top of her hair like an apple when the track competition was held at their school.

“the first time i watched her run i had felt like i was struck by lightning. i din’t know why i felt that way back then ‘s just tha she was like… the wind? i guess?” dowoon mumbles, but wonpil can hear him anyway. they’re thatclose.

“she looked like she was floatin’. she never hesitated when she went to her position. her eyes changed. the veins on her neck were strainin’ and she ran like this.”

dowoon mimics how his date would run, all concentrated expression and swinging arms that disentangle their linked hands. wonpil laughs. dowoon is so cute!

“like, y’know, like a female terminator.” dowoon blushes, his satoori accent becomes distinguishable once he’s excited about something—wonpil has heard it before when they talked about an indie band releasing two new songs every month.

this time it’s dowoon who reaches to hold wonpil’s hand first. wonpil squeezes it, smiling so wide and proud. it really feels like he’s listening to a younger brother’s first love story. the anticipation and the shared giddiness are real!

“and apparently she goes to ewha.” wonpil continues from memory.

dowoon nods. “apparently she goes to ewha, and she visited our café last month by chance.”

“who asked out who first?”

“she did.”

even though wonpil already knew the fact that the girl asked dowoon out to accompany her picking a birthday present for her mother, wonpil still puts his free hand on his face, swooning. he loves outspoken girls, at least he had a pleasant experience with his ex-girlfriend before.

“i demand a selca!” wonpil squeals, pinching dowoon’s cheek just because he can. dowoon juts out his bottom lip but he doesn’t say no, so!

the hair salon is just two blocks away from the coffee club, they arrive in no time at all. jinyoung always goes here, and he had helped to book a specific hair stylist-noona that has a sharp vision of the haircut jinyoung wants and gives it exactly like it is to him. she’s in her thirties, her shoulder-length hair is the color of faded grey, the root is kept fashionably black. dowoon tries to have wonpil explaining what kind of haircut he wants, but wonpil tuts, being strict, not going to coddle him for such important matter!

dowoon wants to try a perm. [he wants the tapered cut to show his sideburns, but his permed hair will have to stay long enough for a cute effect.](https://marks-hyung.tumblr.com/post/168147703524/fyeah-dowoon-on-the-rhythm-do-not-edit) the hair stylist-noona has a motherly smile throughout the explanation, and wonpil can’t wait to see the final result.

dowoon gets so red because all the stylists in the hair salon have gathered around them—since they’re the last customers of the day—and when they compliment on his new look, dowoon curls in his seat, whining at all the attention but thanking them at the same time. the hair stylist-noona is aww-ing alongside wonpil, and she personally walks them to the front door, thanking them for making her day with their cuteness.

wonpil holds dowoon’s cold hand again as they look for the nearest pojangmacha.

the tent is filled with people, hardworking salaryman and woman and a group of people their age inhaling soju and ramen soup. wonpil and dowoon order their preferred food, and wonpil pays for everything. they take a single table at the very back, thankfully the thick plastic tarps are blocking the october wind.

“good?” wonpil asks as dowoon takes a bite of the blood sausage, then sipping on the cheese ramyun soup.

“yeah,” dowoon says quietly, his cheeks puffing, “thank you, wonpil-hyung.”

“eat a lot~” wonpil sing-songs and proceeds to enjoy his own bowl of spicy ramyun.

they don’t eat that much, just sharing the blood sausage portion and a fishcake each. wonpil is checking his phone for anything, opens the meme jackson sent on their group chat, and presses the classic ㅋㅋㅋ as a reply.

dowoon is taking his candid picture when he looks up.

“yah, what was that for?” wonpil swats a hand to the air and dowoon ducks to avoid any accidental slapping. they both laugh it off.

“you’re really handsome, hyung.” dowoon explains in a neutral tone, his fingers are busy typing something on his phone.

“tch,” wonpil pretends to be smug by squaring up his thin chest, “tell me something i don’t know.”

dowoon raises one eyebrow, making a cute challenging face. “i bet you don’t know that my friend has been asking about you.”

“now now,” wonpil chuckles, shaking his head. “don’t be absurd.”

“listen,” dowoon says, putting down his phone on the plastic table and resting his arms there. “hyung, i apologize beforehand. correct me if i’m wrong, yeah?” and then he’s leaning forward, speaking in a low tone, “you’re into guys, right?”

dowoon is a good friend, a great co-worker. he’s not in the group chat where jackson just sent a meme where they could throw banter over how whipped jaebum is for jinyoung and their wild assumption that wonpil is crushing on a certain _wow park sungjin_. no. wonpil knows that dowoon has an older sister. he knows dowoon’s favorite bands and movies, and he’s pretty sure dowoon knows his. but the thing about kim wonpil—the cute sophomore from education major who works part-time at the coffee club— _liking boys_ isn’t exactly out for public.

not even for dowoon.

wonpil never thought that he would be in this kind of situation where he’s actually rendered speechless because of his sexuality. he’s always been in the comforting zone of his close friends keeping it hushed, and though he adores dowoon so so much, he was always hesitant to tell the younger boy about it, mainly because he didn’t know where dowoon stand and it’s wrong to selfishly _assume_ where a person stands on homosexuality, but wonpil would rather stay silent, keeping it unspoken, than having the possibility of losing a friendship.

jinyoung had never taught him how to act when he’s having a… confrontation? no, this is not a confrontation. if anything, dowoon seems to look like he’s patiently waiting for wonpil’s answer.

ignoring the thundering heartbeats in his chest and the growing dampness of his palms, wonpil gives the slightest nod.

dowoon is _beaming_.

“great! whoa, wonpil-hyung, listen a friend of mine has been asking about you! remember when i filmed you doing oppaya song last week? he saw it and swore that he’s seen you from somewh—“

“wait!” wonpil bites his bottom lip. “ _’he’_?”

“yes! great guy, coming from chicago. he’s in the same sports management major with jackson-hyung, but he’s a freshman just like me.” dowoon is smiling so wide and wonpil wonders how could he smile like that. “he wants to talk to you.”

wonpil swallows down dry saliva.

when wonpil isn’t responding, dowoon touches his arm and asks gently, “wonpil-hyung? are you okay? you’re pale.”

the pojangmacha is _still_ filled with people, talking and laughing at their own expenses, surely minding their businesses and not wonpil getting more and more nervous at how dowoon is taking the fact that wonpil is into guys with such _ease_. ha ha.

“wonpil-hyung?”

wonpil hides his face with his hands, not feeling the will to continue existing anymore, however pitiful that is. his chest hurts. he wants to cry.

“wonpil-hyung?”

wonpil whimpers when he’s enveloped in dowoon’s tight embrace, and he counts to twenty before opening his eyes to see that dowoon are kneeling on the hard concrete, the mop of his newly permed hair smells like a combination of hairspray and korean comfort food.

they stay like that for quite some time until finally dowoon is whispering, his big hands are caressing wonpil’s spine,

“please don’t ever apologize for who you are.”

“i’m—“ wonpil stutters, “i’m s-sorry.”

dowoon giggles. it doesn’t sound malicious in the slightest.

“hyung, forgive me. i was being too brash.” he pulls back from their hug, squeezing wonpil’s arms. “i didn’t mean to scare you or anything. you’re one of the best friends i’ve had since i moved to seoul, i’d hate myself if i ever judge you for being who you are.”

“h-how did you know?” wonpil asks, his voice is way too small for his liking. he can breathe easier now but a tiny part of him is still left unsettled.

dowoon scrunches his nose. “eh, well. ‘s just tha you’re different than my pals back in busan. i’m shy, i don’t know my way around girls, but you’ve always been too polite to them. not that that’s _not_ a good thing, ya know? and umm, like. i dunno what’s the deal with the handsome dude who’s always in your instagram story? the one who saved you from strawberry coconut creep? but i understand even if you’re bros, you just don’t post _that much_ amount of content of your bro doin’ nothin’, really.”

 wonpil chokes on a smile as dowoon winks at him.

“thank god it works,” wonpil mumbles, because if dowoon is innocently fooled then so is yeeun-noona.

“what works?” dowoon asks, smiling.

wonpil shakes his head, putting a hand to cup dowoon’s cheek gently.

“that’s for another day,” he says, sighing and telling himself to calm down. dowoon is not going to leave him. “thank you for accepting this hyung.”

“of course!” dowoon says with more vigor, standing up only to bend again so he can hug wonpil. he goes back to his seat, blinking, frowning, opens his mouth to say something but closes it again.

“what is it?” wonpil laughs, throwing a used tissue to dowoon’s chest. trust him to find a way to break the tension! how can he be so cute!?

“i don’t know how to word it?” dowoon gives a goofy laugh, then puckering his lips. “like, is he your boyfriend? if he is, then imma tell my friend you’re not available.”

and it’s wonpil’s turn to mimic what dowoon just did; he blinks, frowns, opens his mouth to answer, but decides against it. he needs to go over the facts again;

  * he’s not dating sungjin
  * sungjin is just a good friend
  * does he want to try meeting with dowoon’s friend?
  * but meeting dowoon’s friend means that he’s taking another step out of the closet
  * is he ready for that?



“he’s not my boyfriend.” wonpil doesn’t hesitate, but still it feels wrong. it’s like he’s two-timing both sungjin and yeeun-noona and possibly dowoon’s friend as well.

“hmm.” dowoon makes a noncommittal sound, clearly wants to hear more.

wonpil pouts. “but we have an arrangement that should only last for a few weeks?”

“aahhh,” dowoon grins, looking cute, “then it should be fine if my friend pursues you?”

 

 

 

jinyoung is getting ready for bed. he’s already wearing his prescription glasses and the room is only bathed in his reading lamp. it’s a quarter to midnight.

“hey.” jinyoung greets him, and he only needs a quick glance to notice the off vibe evaporating from wonpil’s whole being. “how was dowoon’s adventure at the hair salon?”

wonpil croaks out, “he looks so cute and handsome she won’t even stand a chance.”

jinyoung hums, _stares_ at wonpil who’s standing stiffly by the closed and locked door, and says while clapping his hands once then opening his palms like he would coercing a baby to go to his embrace, “come here, but change your clothes first. what is it?”

wonpil wordlessly changes to his usual sleeping attire; a week old sleeping t-shirt and two days old checkered pajama pants. he climbs jinyoung’s bed, sits on jinyoung’s lap, and buries his face on the crook of his best friend’s neck, hugging him tight.

jinyoung lets him. they both are bony nineteen-year-olds but wonpil is craving for close skinship that hopefully will ease the weight in the pit of his stomach.

“dowoon knew.”

“was he being an asshole about it?”

“no,” wonpil sniffs, “his friend wants to meet me.”

“a girl friend?” jinyoung sounds confused.

“a guy.”

“that’s good,” jinyoung sighs, relaxing against the headboard of his bed. “dowoon is a good person, wonpil-ah, you like him so much, right? i’m sure he wouldn’t befriend anyone weird.” he rests his hands on wonpil’s lower back, patting the space like he would a baby’s butt.

wonpil takes a deep breath.

“it’s not that.”

“then?”

“how about sungjin-hyung and yeeun-noona?”

“what about them?”

“i mean—“ wonpil whines, “i mean to noonaya’s knowledge, i’m dating sungjin-hyung! it’s just. it’s just it feels _wrong_ if i go on a date with another guy? like, like i’m two-timing sungjin-hyung and noonaya!”

it takes a millisecond for jinyoung to answer the thing that keeps screaming quietly at wonpil to be recognized,

“why would it feel wrong going on a real date for once?”

oh.

_oh._

 

 

* * *

 

 

the next day at the coffee club, as per jinyoung’s instruction, wonpil asks dowoon for his friend’s contact. _you should go lurk his instagram_ , jinyoung said as they lied in jinyoung’s bed, _social media reflects a side of yourself then maybe you might find a common interest to talk about on—when is the date again?_

dowoon gives wonpil his friend’s kakaotalk and instagram account. jinyoung said he has to let dowoon set up the day and the place for the date, and after those are already established, then wonpil can add the guy’s kakaotalk for communication purpose.

dowoon is texting his friend on dinner break, wonpil reading the conversation from behind his shoulders.

dowoon’s friend doesn’t put up any selca for his kakaotalk profile picture, just a self-taken photo of a basketball match with _bulls v lakers_ written on the electronic board. his instagram feed is dominated by black and white aesthetic photos; a basketball court at night, shadows on asphalt, restaurant interior, a macbook, and the obligatory mirror selca in which wonpil can see how tall and build dowoon’s friend is, with cool, slicked back black hair, and his big, big hand dwarfing his phone.

“his name’s johnny,” dowoon says, typing in english **Sat ok? Teatime @amenohi coffee Mapo-gu?** and johnny replies with a shocked cartoon character and a thank you.

wonpil whines, “does he not speak korean at all?”

“he does, don’t worry! his reading and writing are quite good, but he gets confused with the korean alphabetical keyboard.”

“his name is johnny?”

“seo youngho, but he was born and raised in chicago. not even his parents call him ‘youngho’,” dowoon grins, locking his phone and turning on the fluorescent pink bean bag to face wonpil. “hyung, ask him these questions yourself on saturday!”

“aww, fine,” wonpil huffs, crossing his arms. “how did you befriend him anyway? do you only talk to him in english?”

“a sunbae from my high school recommended a buddy program for overseas student,” dowoon answers, unwrapping the melon bread wonpil bought for him. “i joined because i wanted to polish my english while in turn teaching my overseas buddy korean and the culture and everything else about studying here. i got paired with johnny.”

wonpil snaps his fingers. “right, like jooheon and changkyun.”

dowoon nods, offering the melon bread but wonpil shakes his head. “that’s for you, geez,” wonpil gets up from where he’s sitting on the wooden floor, pinching dowoon’s cheek. “i’m going to make tea. do you want a cup?”

“enough caffeine for the day, hyung, thanks.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

wonpil _knows_ this is ridiculous, it’s not like he’s dating sungjin _for real_ (thanks jinyoung)—but shouldn’t he tell sungjin about saturday?

 

 

* * *

 

 

jinyoung takes care of everything. from styling his hair to dolling him up with eyebrow pencil and BB cream and pink lip tint, because he can’t use the fuchsia one since wonpil is wearing wine-colored coat or else the colors will blend and it won’t look good. jinyoung compliments the only mirror selca johnny has in his instagram, teasing that wonpil has a ‘type’ and that’s tall, broad guys with big, big hands.

wonpil is about to argue that sungjin is not tall but realizes that he’s contradicting himself. in the end he didn’t tell the older man about today.

jinyoung pins wonpil’s kakaotalk at the very top so he can easily communicate with wonpil in case something goes wrong. he learns the route to amenohi coffee, and gives wonpil a curfew; he should be back to the dorm by 10 PM sharp, no excuses allowed. wonpil is touched by jinyoung’s natural motherly instinct he doesn’t even protest at all the fussing, he’s too nervous and excited and scared because he’s going on a _real_ date with _a guy_  today.

amenohi coffee can only accommodate four tables; dowoon had to make a reservation by phone call yesterday. wonpil arrives first, orders irish coffee, and takes the window table. there’s a couple sitting on his right, sharing a plate of pretty cake and talking about some drama on TV.

wonpil is scanning through the menu when the door is opened again, bringing the cold october wind inside the small establishment, and when his eyes meet with the guy’s— _johnny_ , standing tall, bigger than everything in here with acid blue denim jacket and black jeans—a shiver of something pleasant is running through his veins, warming his cheeks, his heart, and wonpil finds himself smiling.

 

** TO BE CONTINUED...  **

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  # cliffhanger bc i'm so not going to half-ass my baby boy's first date with jyani like i said bYe SunGJiN  
>   
> # anyway expect more fl00f on chapter 4 (part ii) akjsdkjfkasd  
>   
> 


	5. FOUR (part ii)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * idk why this one is so exhausting lmao pls help me by commenting   
>  * [this is how you should portray the main characters](https://marks-hyung.tumblr.com/post/169691922119/have-willing-heart-visuals) / johnny's speech is intentionally written to be awkward since he's new to the korean language / _italics mean jyani speaking in english_   
>  * as usual i will ask for 10 comments, the more the merrier, analysis or just keyboard smashing i'll take them all   
>  * PSA: i seem to always update 'willing heart' once a month i will redeem myself pls keep on supporting me sw-swaggy rapper in the future   
>    
>    
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_jinyoung takes care of everything. from styling his hair to dolling him up with eyebrow pencil and BB cream and pink lip tint, because he can’t use the fuchsia one since[wonpil is wearing wine-colored coat](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/C6qaWIaU4AAgMDc.jpg) or else the colors will blend and it won’t look good. jinyoung compliments the only mirror selca johnny has in his instagram, teasing that wonpil has a ‘type’ and that’s tall, broad guys with big, big hands._

_wonpil is about to argue that sungjin is not tall but realizes that he’s contradicting himself. in the end he didn’t tell the older man about today._

_jinyoung pins wonpil’s kakaotalk at the very top so he can easily communicate with wonpil in case something goes wrong. he learns the route to amenohi coffee, and gives wonpil a curfew; he should be back to the dorm by 10 PM sharp, no excuses allowed. wonpil is touched by jinyoung’s natural motherly instinct he doesn’t even protest at all the fussing, he’s too nervous and excited and scared because he’s going on a real date with a guy today._

_amenohi coffee can only accommodate four tables; dowoon had to make a reservation by phone call yesterday. wonpil arrives first, orders irish coffee, and takes the window table. there’s a couple sitting on his right, sharing a plate of pretty cake and talking about some drama on TV._

_wonpil is scanning through the menu when the door is opened again, bringing the cold october wind inside the small establishment, and when his eyes meet with the guy’s—johnny, standing tall, bigger than everything in here with acid blue denim jacket and black jeans—a shiver of something pleasant is running through his veins, warming his cheeks, his heart, and wonpil finds himself smiling._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

  

**PART ii**

 

 

 

one of johnny’s feet is bumping an empty chair as he approaches wonpil, and the screeching is so loud in the small establishment, turning heads.

the couple sitting on wonpil’s right don’t really avert their gazes. they’re blatantly giving johnny an appraising onceover, until johnny throws them a grimace/smile and hurried apology.

johnny seems… adorable, if wonpil should put it into word, because despite his menacing size, surprisingly johnny is… not intimidating.

“ _h-hi_ ,” johnny stutters in english. his eyes have long lashes and his smile is, again, surprisingly dorky. johnny offers a hand when he reaches the table, and he smells like something that would be colored in lavender, like a flower that wonpil can’t name.

“um, wonpil-hyung?” johnny asks, still in his american accent, and wonpil can’t help but to smile wider. by korean standard, johnny shouldn’t have called him ‘hyung’ on their first meeting. thankfully, wonpil doesn’t care about korean standard because adjusting to another culture is important to build a good relationship! jaehyung had insisted that he didn’t need to be called ‘hyung’, but relented when everybody around him still did! it’s a mutual understanding between the two party involved!

“yes, hello.” wonpil says his greeting, standing up from his seat, feeling his cheeks turn warmer just because of how way much bigger johnny is. his towering height. his _hand_. the handshake is done briefly, johnny’s palm is calloused and dry, and maybe the look of amazement on his face comes from how soft and scented wonpil’s palm is? hand cream is really an important investment!

wonpil thinks he might be blushing right about now, but whatever. he needs to calm down asap.

“do you order yet?” johnny asks again, turning down the volume of his voice, and wonpil notices the jumbled korean. “would you like anything? dowoonnie say the matcha gateau chocolate cake is best here.”

wonpil makes sure that he speaks in simpler sentence. “we can share a cake.”

“ _great_ , alright.” johnny beams, the fringe of his black hair is falling to his eyes and he runs one big hand through, messing it up, and wonpil clears his throat.

the younger guy is talking animatedly to the owner, who is japanese, and they both speak in this cute, accented korean. johnny is really taking up the space with his big everything. wonpil can’t even see the owner from where he’s sitting; he’s hidden by johnny’s broad shoulders and back and torso clad in acid blue denim jacket. the jacket is so cool. wonpil wonders if maybe yeeun-noona will get him one if he asks? but then again johnny’s physique is really disarming, and wonpil, as a fellow human, is either very envious or very pleased.

johnny is smiling when he goes back to sit in front of wonpil, his long legs are creating a couple of extra inches between them or else their knees will bump against each other underneath the table. it’s good, though. wonpil still needs time to calm down. to be fair, sitting close to someone who’s allegedly interested in you and looks like a _johnny_ is quite amazing on its own.

so if wonpil were jinyoung, what would he do, since jinyoung’s been on dates with guys before?

“how—“

“it’s really you.”

wonpil blinks.

johnny lifts a thumb to rub his nose, dragging it down to his mouth, biting it as he slouches forward, seemingly collecting his bravery to continue. he doesn’t look like he put on any bb cream or did his bushy eyebrows; there’s a hint of black rings underneath his eyes and his lips are chapped, yet to wonpil and most likely to everyone else, he is captivating enough. it’s the height and his big everything for sure.

“it’s—this will sound weird. but. _like_ , remember library? that was me, wonpil-hyung.” johnny pauses to narrow his eyes. “you kinda ran into me. or, _like_ , i ran into you?”

“oh!” wonpil gasps, putting one hand to his cheek, tilting his head. “was it you? i just remember that someone was _sooooooo_ tall. was it really you?”

johnny grins, nods, and says, “that’s not the first time we meet.”

“oh?”

“ _like_ , do you remember the beginning of the semester pool party? i saw you there.”

“you did?”

“ _yeah_ , you were staring at me _i guess_? i mean i was without t-shirt by the pool, so you could be staring. it was too hot that night.”

a fragment of skin and arms made of bulging muscles and jawline sharper than his own is flashing in wonpil’s memory. surprisingly how his split second decision to send the university’s star basketball player a small smile is the most vivid recollection, and apparently wonpil is _blushing_ —only because johnny says so; pointing it out with a shy giggle, like he understands how embarrassing it is to be confronted by someone who caught you staring at them months ago.

“i’m pretty sure you smiled at me, hyung. i did smile back, but you were gone suddenly!”

wonpil covers his face with both hands, willing himself not to squeal. everything feels so warm and soft and he is not prepared to get such a violent burst of euphoric feelings! this is too good to be true!

“then the library crash happen, and the next day i saw dowoonnie’s instagram story,” johnny hums, moving his hands on the table to play with the menu. he keeps his eye contact with wonpil when he smiles. “ _like_ , i don’t understand aegyo concept, _but you were so cute._ ”

“one matcha gateau chocolate cake and one cappuccino for johnny!”

wonpil watches the spring on johnny’s steps and gives himself a quick check out on the window. jinyoung’s hairspray is a godsend. he doesn’t have anything embarrassing in between his teeth. everything is in its right place.

“wonpil-hyung,” johnny says his name with no context whatsoever, as he sits back down and places the tray gently. wonpil loves anything that rhymes with sweet, so he gladly takes the tiny fork johnny provides for him.

“thank you.”

johnny grins, and raises one eyebrow to let wonpil have the first bite. wonpil scrunches his nose and digs in. the cake is so moist, smells faintly like sungjin, and wonpil waits for johnny to dig in as well. they both raise their tiny forks simultaneously, and get their minds blown upon the first taste. it’s just that heavenly! certainly one of the best, and wonpil has had _looooots_ of cakes, thanks to years of growing up with an older sister who would treat him cakes and bubble tea and crepes! wonpil is mentally thanking dowoon for finding such cafe!

he really should stop ending his thought sentences with an exclamation mark.

“ _oh my_ ,” johnny laughs, clearing his throat, licking his bottom lip, bringing his eyes up to take a peek at wonpil’s reaction and a split second later averting his gaze back to the cake. “i finally get why matcha going big in america. _this is so good!_ ”

“i have to say that this is one of the best.” wonpil purses his lips, pressing his tongue to the back of his lower teeth. “are these red beans?”

johnny nods, and wonpil takes a forkful into his mouth. it tastes so creamy wonpil has to lean back on his seat to savor the sticky texture. god!

“wonpil-hyung.”

“yes?”

“do you like basketball?”

“i _play_ it alright,” wonpil laughs, using his free hand to cover his mouth just in case he has red beans somewhere. “i’m more musically inclined kind of guy.”

“um,” johnny gives a dorky-sounding giggle, “what was that? i don’t understand.”

wonpil widens his eyes. he pretends to scold himself by tapping his mouth a couple of times. “aaaaa sorry! i mean i like music more than sports!”

johnny makes an understanding noise, stabbing a tiny portion of the cake. “have you went to basketball match?” he asks, adding a little bit of whipped cream to the portion before eating it.

“no. why?”

“just curiosity. hyung, what’s the meaning behind your name? it sounds so cute.”

“my mom said it means [‘to aid or help’](https://marks-hyung.tumblr.com/post/169615569489/when-you-searched-the-meaning-behind-wonpils-name).” wonpil answers,* scooting his chair closer because he feels awkward with his current position. when he’s sure he won’t bump knees with johnny, he continues, “i’m the youngest in my family. my sister is two years older.”

“older sister is ‘noona’, right?” johnny asks, and wonpil nods. “i’m an only child.”

“aww!” wonpil coos. no wonder johnny is so adorable! he reaches to pat johnny’s arm and talks in a babying voice, merely out of habit whenever he finds anyone younger than him, “don’tchu worry wonpillie-hyung is here~”

johnny laughs, loud, and snorts it back because well, it’s too loud. he’s got colors on his cheeks and he whispers in english, “ _why are korean guys so cute?_ ”

wonpil chuckles, pretends not to feel giddy, and tries to calm down by taking the first sip of his drink.

“irish coffee?” johnny asks again, still whispering.

“this is my first time trying.” wonpil pouts because of the bitter aftertaste. at least the cream helps to wash down the bitterness on his tongue. “it tastes… bitter. but unique. wonpillie-hyung doesn’t really drink coffee.”

“but wonpillie-hyung works at a coffee shop!” johnny howls, seemingly careless with how _elated_ he sounds. wonpil has to applaud his wit though, johnny is already throwing jokes as if they’ve known each other for a while! that’s a quality right there!

“i knooooooow! i prefer sweet things like frappe and bubble tea,” wonpil whines, putting his elbows on the table. “do you know bubble tea?”

“those tapioca balls? dowoonnie bought a taro-flavored for me once, with caramelized tapioca balls. i liked it, but can not finish.”

“too sweet?”

“yeah.”

“give this a try.” wonpil pushes his glass gently. “you might like it.”

“doesn’t this have alcohol?” johnny asks.

“i asked the owner to put less whiskey. i’m a lightweight.”

“really? i thought korean guys can handle their liquor well.”

“dowoon?”

“ _that dude is amazing_.” johnny gushes in english. “you do know how i know him, right, wonpil-hyung?” wonpil nods, and that’s a cue for johnny to continue in a full storytelling mode. “like, the first time we met he was kind of quiet. like he wanted to understand me first. my korean was so limited that time. then we go to an outing with other international students and dowoon literally the only one stayed sober after rounds! i don’t know how he do it!” he ends his story by sipping the irish coffee and shrugging.

“eh, it’s alright.” he comments. “you don’t have to finish if you don’t like it, wonpillie-hyung.”

“right,” wonpil raises a fist to brace himself. “i’ll just have one last taste then i’m done.” he does just so, gulping a good amount, and then putting both hands on his cheeks because the alcohol is slowly going in his system.

“ _you’re so cute!_ ” johnny gives a muffled squeal, hugging himself as if he can’t help but to have a physical reaction towards what wonpil just did. “i’ll buy you bubble tea later, hyung.”

“nonsense!” wonpil wriggles one finger. “wonpillie-hyung will take care of everything today.”

johnny happily digs into the cake again, giving the rest for wonpil to have. they exchange a cute sequence of the classic, muted, very expressive for-me?-yes-for-you-are-you-sure?-yes-please-aww! and wonpil is cooing once again at how cute johnny is!

“so you’re from chicago?” wonpil asks while smearing the whipped cream to the red beans. “what is it like over there?”

johnny answers after sipping on his cappuccino, “it’s cold even in the summer. i came to seoul during summer, _right_ , and i couldn’t really enjoy han river when the buddy program had the first outing there.”

“that bad?” wonpil pouts.

“that bad,” johnny grins, “but i’ll manage. it’s just my first year here. basically my debut year.”

wonpil wants to bop johnny’s nose, a thing he often does to jooheon, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to yet. he opts to talk in babying tone again, “of course, wonpillie-hyung believes in you.”

“thank you, wonpillie-hyungie.” comes johnny’s reply, also in what he probably assumes a baby voice, and they both burst out laughing at how silly they sound.

“how do you pick up korean so fast?” wonpil asks, wiping a lone tear from the corner of his left eye. “is dowoon a good teacher?”

“my parents are the third generation korean-american, they no longer have relatives here in korea,” johnny explains, “they don’t talk in korean at all. when i was sure i want to study here i go to korean language course back home for five months? i get the basic. i can read hangul but not the chinese characters ha ha ha. but my writing still needs much improvement. dowoonnie helps sometimes.”

“are all of your lectures taught in english?”

“ _yep_. i apologize if my korean is weird. can you speak english, hyung?”

“don’t be silly, your korean is great! as for english, i understand you but i’m not on the level to have a full conversation in english.”

“then i promise to study korean harder.” johnny raises one hand as if doing a pledge, and wonpil slams his open palm for a high five. johnny blinks in an apparent surprise, a millisecond too late, and it’s still so cute in wonpil’s opinion!

“hyung, you’re so cute you know?” johnny giggles, his shoulders are shaking.

“i do know,” wonpil does a gesture as if he’s flipping his hair like every bad girl he sees on tv. “thanks.”

they talk about lots of things; jackson, some anecdote about jackson, another one, and changkyun. is it true that changkyun is the son of a professor? johnny believes that changkun had mentioned it on one of their buddy program outings. _his buddy jooheon-hyung is so cute, gosh_! johnny celebrates christmas but wonpil doesn’t. johnny is not going home on christmas because his parents will visit him instead. dowoon recommended some essential k-pop starter pack and a lot of indie bands to enjoy, because johnny still relies on english subtitle whenever he’s streaming korean variety show on his computer, while music is universal. wonpil makes a mental note to introduce B1A4 to johnny in the future. johnny says he can’t eat spicy food and he likes bibimbap and samgyeopsal the most because they don’t taste ‘complicated’ and wonpil has to laugh at the description. he asks the meaning behind ‘oppaya’ song and has to take a moment when wonpil, naturally, starts singing the song but without the aegyo. wonpil wonders if johnny has his oppaya video saved in his phone but decides not to make his ego swell even further!

they agree to have a stroll at myeongdong shopping street next.

“i feel like having fishcake’s soup before dinner,” wonpil says, “i have to wash down the alcohol.”

“the folded thingy, right? i tried it before it’s tasty. does it really help?” johnny asks, licking his upper lip for any remaining milk foam. “i’m done.”

“i’m not sure but the thought is making me warm already.” wonpil gets up, patting invisible dust from his wine-colored coat. this time, he catches johnny staring. “what?” he snorts, smiling shyly.

“sorry!” johhny squeaks, letting wonpil open the door, but taking his sweet time to elaborate by bidding the owner goodbye and a promise to come back again. wonpil holds the door for him, and johnny is bouncing.

“hey, don’t make wonpillie-hyung wait!” wonpil pretends to sulk, crossing his arms and shaking his head in mock disapproval. johnny squeaks again.

“uhh, sorry! _like_ , i knew you look small from dowoonnie’s instagram story but i never thought you’re this compact, wonpillie-hyung!” johnny throws his arms animatedly, signaling his shocked state. “or maybe i’m just a giant,” he mumbles, putting his hands into the pockets of his acid blue denim jacket.

“now that’s more like it.” wonpil tuts, dismissing the wild beating of his heart. johnny apologizes again but wonpil just pinches his sleeved arm half-heartedly. “shush. have you been to myeongdong?”

“yes, i can navigate to here from the dorm.”

“what did you do the last time you were here?”

johnny stretches one arm out for wonpil, halting his steps because there’s a puddle of water and wonpil, to conceal his swoon, coos at johnny’s small but significant sense. johnny smiles, pocketing that hand back.

“i was here with a date. she took me to zara and spend a fortune from me.”

“it’s ‘for me’.” wonpil makes a gentle correction and prods, “eyyy you were on a date? did she dump you?”

johnny laughs, “she did! she is a rich noona from hong kong, two years ahead? ahead. above? anyway she bought me too many stuffs. on our third date i told her i’m not comfortable with that she rolled her eyes and walked away. _she was a badass_.”

wonpil’s gasp is genuinely of amazement. “i can’t believe you got yourself a sugar noona on your debut year as a freshman!”

“oh! a sugar noona! i like how it sounds.” johnny turns his face to wriggle his eyebrows at wonpil. “will you be my sugar hyung?”

wonpil whines at the sudden quip. “i could be, but it won’t be on zara level!” he exclaims, clicking his tongue. “kids these days.”

“i’m just joking, wonpil-hyung,” johnny chuckles, “dowoonnie told me you like to buy him food and melon bread.”

“i can do food and melon bread.” wonpil nods, and johnny laughs again, the late afternoon sun is casting a warm orange glow on his long neck and his hair is swept by the cold october wind.

wonpil decides to take a deep breath.

johnny wants to try the baby fried octopus, washing the spicy sauce in wonpil’s fishcake soup before eating it. he likes it, and asks wonpil to buy him a fishcake stuffed with kimchi and japchae hotbar. he chooses garlic cheese sauce and ketchup, feeding wonpil as they walk side by side the crowded myeongdong shopping street. they’ve arrived at the right time when it’s not dinner yet and even though it’s cold, people are out in their best fall attire. since it’s saturday, the amount of english and other foreign languages as the background lull is increasing. and of course, wherever they go, johnny is towering over everyone, sending smiles whenever people bump into him and vice versa. he eats slowly but in big bites, his mouth is closed and he seems to enjoy the silence.

wonpil gets a kakaotalk’s notification and checks his phone.

it’s from sungjin.

 

_17:20_

**park sungjin :** hey

 **park sungjin :** guess what

 

wonpil swipes the screen to immediately reply.

 

_17:20_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** WHAT

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** Hehehe hi hyung how r U?.

 

_17:21_

**park sungjin :** lol

 **park sungjin :** great, are you at the dorm?

 **park sungjin :** want to have dinner?

 

wonpil pouts to his phone.

 

_17:22_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** I’m with a friend rn!! Sorry!

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** Wait what is ittt

 

from his peripheral vision, johnny is seen fishing out his phone and that makes wonpil feel a little less guilty.

 

_17:22_

**park sungjin :** ah ok

 **park sungjin :** no you have to guess

 

_17:23_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** （￣^￣）

 

_17:23_

**park sungjin :** LMAOOOOO

 **park sungjin :** i have a surprise for ya

 **park sungjin :** there

 

“you okay, hyung?”

“fine! sorry!” wonpil looks up to johnny smiling at him like he’s the cutest thing on earth reacting unreasonably happy after a simple kakaotalk from a friend who happens to be his fake boyfriend. wonpil blushes. what a bad narrative.

“it’s just… my friend. he said he’s got a surprise for me.”

johnny whistles, nodding, and goes back to his phone, taking pictures of a very creative halloween decoration on a soft-shell crab’s food stall.

 

_17:24_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** OMG

 **Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** Really? Why? Thank you!

 

_17:25_

**park sungjin :** that’s so cute

 **park sungjin :** you’ll see

 **park sungjin :** bbaiing~

 

wonpil sends one big, red heart sticker and a manlier version of a thank you sticker that is a rock and roll hand sign. sungjin replies with one bear sticker and wonpil puts his phone back in the inner pocket of his coat, telling himself that he will save his excitement for sungjin’s surprise later. he’s with johnny now.

wonpil nudges johnny’s side as they walk pass zara, and johnny makes a voice imitation of a cash machine. wonpil is so speechless he can only put one hand on his chest, dramatically stopping on his track.

johnny asks, a couple of steps ahead, “your friend. the surprise, is it for your birthday, wonpillie-hyung?”

“no, my birthday is in april.” wonpil says, stepping out to make way for a young mom pushing a stroller with her baby boy waving his tiny, pudgy hand at wonpil. wonpil smiles and waves back. “when’s yours?”

johnny’s birthdays is in february and he finishes the hotbar as they’re at the rows of makeup and skincare stores. the place prompts a memory of when it all first began. the last time he was in a makeup store, sungjin rubbed bakery-scented hand cream on the back of his hand. here, about a month later, B1A4 members cutout is welcoming him right in front of tony moly, and there’s a group of tourist wearing headscarves posing with them, showing off their purchased paper bags.

“B1A4, right? my classmate from japan is a big fan. she has him as her phone case.” johnny’s nonchalant comment is throwing wonpil off-balance and the fact that he’s casually pointing at gongchan is just so surreal.

wonpil is _trying_ his best to hold himself back from yelling. “you know them? have you listened to them?”

johnny shakes his head, “hip hop is life yo.”

wonpil, again, dramatically puts one hand on his chest.

“are you a fan, wonpil-hyung?”

“yes!”

“ _so cute!_ ” johnny squeals, and he, again, hugs himself as if he can’t help it. “are they the speaker people of this brand? is this brand any good?”

“it’s ’spokesperson’.” wonpil says, and johnny makes another dorky expression. “i don’t know, i don’t really use makeup.”

johnny lets out an annoying questioning sound and wonpil punches his arm. “hey! my roommate knew what’s best for me, okay?” he huffs. “said i have to look my best today.”

“i’m sure you look the best everyday, wonpil-hyung, with or without makeup.”

johnny realizes a tad bit too late the effect of how greasy he sounds just now. but it’s done. it’s out there. wonpil is exaggerating his gagging noise, and johnny hides his face using his big hands, whining, “sorry i didn’t know what the hell!” he sniffs, loud, and squares his shoulders. “let’s come in! i’m curious. dowoon uses lipstick a lot.”

“it’s lip balm.”

“what’s the difference?”

johnny finds out the hard way. the sales girl gets star-struck the moment he enters tony moly, and wonpil is quietly indulging her when it’s perfectly clear that she’s shocked by him as well. johnny is taken to a whole new world of different kind of lip balm, lip stain, lip tint, and finally, lipstick. he ends up with a handful of free samples; two sheets of lip mask, three different sheets of face mask, one packet of moisturizer, one packet of the bakery-scented hand cream, and one packet of face serum that should be applied right after night cream, something that johnny doesn’t even own in the first place. wonpil declines the offer, telling the sales girl that he will share them with johnny, and she asks if they’re trainees from an idol company and when wonpil answers that no, they’re not, she asks again if they’re a rookie actor and wonpil gives her his best smile while shaking his head.

wonpil isn’t even trying to be lowkey about the mini B1A4 poster though, because the myeongdong branch has a different print from the hongdae’s.

johnny gives the mini poster a quick scan. “do you have a favorite dude, wonpil-hyung?” he’s treating the glossy paper carefully and wonpil is beyond thankful for that!

“’favorite dude’? do you mean favorite member?” wonpil points at CNU. “this dude, then. he looks like a bear.”

“ohh i see the resemblance,” johnny snaps his fingers, “he kinda looks like me.”

wonpil snorts, the sound is so unflattering but what did johnny just say?

“yeah! see?” johnny, shamelessly, puts up the mini poster so his face is aligned with CNU, who’s standing at the corner. “i can look like a bear, too. no problem. what’s his name?”

wonpil pretends to glare. “CNU,” he says, smiling at how cute johnny is trying to pronounce the name.

“she— _what?_ anyway, i will look them up, hyung. maybe i will like them.” gently, johnny rolls the mini poster and puts it in the paper bag. he opens his mouth, closes it again, and wonpil inquiries with a demanding expression for johnny to spill it out.

“no, it’s going to be so cringy!” johnny has it in him to be dramatic. he’s pinching the space between his eyebrows and closing his eyes.

wonpil giggles, feeling the warmth in his heart and cheeks. “tell wonpillie-hyung!” he grabs johnny’s arm that has the paper bag hooked to the crook of his elbow, and johnny easily relaxes, letting wonpil to cling to him after meeting exactly for one hour and forty-eight minutes.

he whispers in a funny tone, “i was thinking if i liked B1A4 maybe wonpil-hyung would like me too!”

“aww!” wonpil gives johnny’s solid arm a tight squeeze, the muscles are hard and defined, unlike his stick thin one. the tip of johnny’s left ear is reddening. “of course wonpillie-hyung will like johnny no matter what! hip hop is good. it’s fine.”

“ _you’re a heartbreaker, don’t you know that?_ ” johnny says, softly, almost inaudibly, in a foreign language that sounds so effortless and when wonpil is about to protest because hey, he still understands what that means, johnny is pulling him to a stop, exclaiming that finally he finds the best stir-fried chicken restaurant he had the first time he landed in korea!

“really? i’ve never tried this place before,” wonpil says, taking the bustling movements from the packed restaurant and the appetizing smell. he glances at johnny who still has his mouth hanging open and wonpil reaches to close his jaw, the skin is warm against his. “let’s have dinner here.”

johnny wails, playing his role well as the younger between them. “can we? please, my soul is starving.”

they’re early for dinner, but the restaurant is already packed. they get a table near the entrance where it’s quite cooled and not stuffy. johnny discards his acid blue denim jacket, hanging it over the plastic chair. he’s wearing a plain black t-shirt underneath, showing off the prominent veins on his arms. when he puts his elbows on the table to read the menu, the muscles on his arms are moving along, and wonpil darts his eyes quickly to his own menu.

they settle on one couple-portion of the classic stir-fried chicken with rice cakes and a bowl of clear tofu soup to share.

wonpil asks, “do you eat rice?”

“i came to love it as i live here,” johnny flips the menu to read the selection of drinks. “shi…shikye. i want to try shikye. it’s a rice drink, right?”

“yes.”

“it’s not alcohol, right?”

“no.” wonpil smiles, taking off his coat and raising a hand to call the ahjumma. he tells her their order, and she throws a random compliment about their faces. wonpil tilts his head and asks for extra mini kimbap, and she gets them a small plate for free.

“ _how did you do that?_ ” johnny wheezes in english, his eyes are the size of the small plate. “ _that was some suave move_ , hyung!”

“ _i’m irresistible_ ,” wonpil answers in english, sending johnny a wink before attacking the treat. kimbap always tastes nostalgic, and soon enough wonpil has eaten three. “listen, you don’t know it from me, but dowoon is on a date today.”

“ _get it my boooi!_ ” johnny whoops, doing some complicated swag dance that jooheon and changkyun often do. he damn nearly knocks over his glass of water though, and wonpil tuts.

“i’m going to ask him to send us a selca with his future girlfriend,” wonpil says, unlocking his phone and doing just so via kakaotalk. he puts his phone on the table, reaches for another kimbap, and gets a reply.

 

_18:09_

**dowoonnie^^ :** no T_T

 

“look at this brat refusing me!” wonpil scoffs. “maybe we should send one to him first?”

johnny is already putting up a peace sign even before wonpil is switching to the camera app. wonpil raises his arm, and they get a decent selca in just one shot. he sends it to dowoon with a caption saying Johnny says Hi~~~

 

_18:13_

**dowoonnie^^** : fine uwu

 

dowoon attaches a photo of his date; a girl with black, nape-length hair making a silly duck face to the camera. there’s a pan of pizza in the frame, and her plate of presumably pasta is already finished. wonpil gives johnny his phone to take a look.

“i know her,” johnny nods, “she’s in the cheer squad.”

“what?” wonpil remembers that dowoon’s date used to be the track’s captain in high school. but a cheerleader?

wow!

“yeah, she’s super pretty. but she never has a normal picture? always making silly face like that. still, _my boi_ dowoon so swag.” johnny does another weird move and apologizes when the ahjumma is laughing at him, bringing their drinks, clear tofu soup, and bowls of rice while her worker brings the sizzling hot stir-fried chicken for them.

wonpil takes a picture of their meal and uploads it to his instagram story, hoping that sungjin will ask where the restaurant is so he can take him here one day.

johnny waits for wonpil to finish uploading before he asks, “i was wondering if i can follow your instagram?” and fishes out his own phone to take a picture of their meal.

“my username is @kkmwwpl.”

“done.”

“done. i followed you back.”

“cool. can we eat now? please?”

 

* * *

 

after the hearty dinner, they decide to look around the shopping street for the last time before going back to their dorms. the street gets even more crowded as the night progresses, and they’re reaching the merchandise and k-pop stores. wonpil’s eyes are instantly drawn to the grizzly bear figure keychain from ‘we bare bears’ show, and when he finds out the keychain is priced only for 1,000 won he buys it without thinking twice.

“that’s cute. ‘we bare bears’, right?” johnny is looming over wonpil’s back, his head is reaching the shop’s handmade paper cranes decoration hanging from the ceiling.

“the friend who’s got a surprise for me looks like a bear,” wonpil sing-songs, “this is for him.”

johnny raises one eyebrow and asks, half in amazement and half in mocking fashion, “your B1A4 dude also looks like a bear. do you have a bear kink, wonpillie-hyung?”

wonpil flicks the lapel of johnny’s acid blue denim jacket. “hey! how dare you questioning wonpillie-hyung!” he laughs, and johnny pretends to grumble. “see anything you like? i’ll buy it for you.”

“umm…” johnny bends his waist to touch a figure keychain with a thumb. “this dude is in a basketball jersey. he looks cool. who is he?”

“you don’t know him?”

“no?”

“oh my god.” wonpil knows he’s being obnoxious but serves johnny right for questioning his love for bears! “that’s the legendary hanamichi sakuragi! the protagonist from the greatest basketball manga ever, ‘slam dunk’! even a music geek like me know him!”

johnny pouts and wonpil apologizes, nuzzling his head to johnny’s left arm. he buys the keychain for johnny, making the younger guy promise to cherish it.

wonpil buys a portion of pork yakisoba for jinyoung, while johnny picks an egg bread for tomorrow’s breakfast. they walk the short distance to the subway station; their dorms are located at the same area, but johnny will get off first since the station is closer to the international students housing complex. they sit next to each other in a comfortable silence, their knees and thighs touching. johnny’s legs are so long and sturdy and wonpil expresses his distaste regarding the huuuge gap of their sizes by punching johnny’s left knee.

repeatedly.

“ow, ouch. hyung, what did i do?”

“for being a tall bear.”

if johnny is blushing and stuttering for a good dozen of heartbeats, wonpil decides not to comment on it.

“thanks for the date.” johnny whispers to the back of wonpil’s head, and upon thisclose, even after hours and eating at a chicken restaurant, he still smells like something that would be colored in lavender, like a flower that wonpil can’t name. “umm that was a date, right?”

wonpil whispers back, using his hand to conceal his mouth from other passengers who are all minding their own businesses. “of course it was a date.”

“ _awesome_ ,” johnny fist pumps the air, quietly, and continues, “hyung. will you—will you come to my frat’s halloween party?”

wonpil blinks.

“i mean it’s totally fine if you don’t—”

wonpil cuts him off, “you’re in a frat?” _and the star basketball player?_ —but that one goes unsaid. this feels like senior year of high school all over again, with him being involved with a soft-hearted jock, the only difference is that johnny actually _knows_ when to use _your_ versus _you’re_ in english and that johnny made a move, unlike wonpil who never did back then.

“if it’s okay with you, i will totally come to the party.”

the tension on johnny’s shoulders are visibly evaporating with wonpil’s agreeing to his invitation. he says, “it’s at alpha sig house, i can pick you up? it will be on the 31st.”

“is it a costume party?”

“i don’t think so? costume is not mandatory.”

“are you going to dress up as anyone at all?”

“a low-budget pirate maybe?”

“i’ll mark my calendar.”

 

* * *

  

_21:01_

**Peach Nyoung :** Good?

 

_21:02_

**Kim Wonpiri (** **◡‿◡✿) :** AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  jyani really out there kinkshaming wonpil whohooooooooooo | * thanks to tumblr user [ @saisakurano5](https://saisakurano5.tumblr.com/) | [amazing aesthetic by lu @jahehyung/ttamarrindo](https://jahehyung.tumblr.com/post/164673820693/sungpil-fake-boyfriendau-based-on)
> 
>  
> 
>   
>   
>   
> 


End file.
